What They Won't Tell You At The Water Cooler
by XrifreeandLupin111
Summary: A/U. Brian's the boss. Justin's the intern. Ethan's the boyfriend. How complicated could that possibly get?
1. Chapter 1  revised

**Disclaimer**: Seriously; would we be doing this if we had any rights over this show or the characters, in any manner or form?

**A/N: **So, this story is the result of **Xrifree** and **Lupin111**'s imaginations taking some strange twists and turns, and winding up in an alternate universe where Brian never met Justin under a lamp post, and Justin had a boyfriend called Ethan. Without further ado, let the story begin...

* * *

19 year old Justin Taylor was not having a good day. Evidently the day was still young, but previous experience had taught him that if something didn't start well, chances are it's going to end pretty crappy too. He hoped against hope that things would improve just this once.

Today was going to be his first day of work at Vanguard, a renowned advertising agency in Pittsburgh and god only knew he needed all the good luck he could get. Less money was not a possibility he wanted to consider. Ever since his parents' divorce, he had been flipping through the yellow pages like a maniac and had already landed a job at a diner on Liberty Avenue the week before.

Chances were his father would freak if he ever found out Justin was going to be working on Liberty Avenue. But he had lost the right to be freaked out about anything the minute he had refused to keep paying for Justin's art school now, hadn't he?

Besides, Justin liked working at the diner. Sure, it was minimum wage and serving tweaked out queens who kept grabbing his ass at two in the morning had more drawbacks than positives, but at least he was somewhere he felt like he belonged. More than he did at St. James Academy, anyway.

Debbie, a loud, colorful waitress there - also known as the patron saint for queers everywhere - had instantly taken him under her wing and shown him the ropes. His upbringing had not equipped him to survive at the diner, but Debbie's saucy comebacks and vulgar sexual innuendos to the patrons were education enough.

Now Justin was able to tell when a Couple's Surprise plate was edible and when it might lead to a not so pleasant surprise, what nosy questions were too nosy to ask Kiki the waitress- formerly known as Kenny the waiter- and when it was better to just reply with a wink and a smile at a flirty customer- instead of telling them to shut their mouth and keep their hands to themselves.

Altogether, working at the diner was a nice experience but there was no way it could pay the rent, so a second job was needed. Attending PIFA was out of the question for now, but Justin hoped he'd be able to save enough money to go next year, while helping his mother and Molly out as much as he could too. Besides it would be nice to work somewhere where he'd be able to create.

Justin Taylor, Junior Artist, Vanguard Advertising. It had a nice ring to it. Although Justin Taylor, Creative Director, Vanguard Advertising sounded even better, that would probably take 30 years to happen, if it ever did, and Justin was pretty sure he would have left the advertising world by then.

"Up so early?" Ethan asked from his place on the bed.

"I'm already running late." Justin replied, while putting on his shoes. He went over to the cracked mirror Ethan had rescued from a garbage truck, to fix his hair hurriedly. Breaking a mirror meant seven years of bad luck. Not a good sign.

"Oh right. First day at work."

Justin nodded absentmindedly.

"Are you nervous?"

"That's the understatement of the year."

Ethan got up and came to stand behind Justin in front of the mirror, placing his chin on the teen's shoulder. "You know you don't have to do this. You can just stay here… have breakfast with me…"

"And I take it you'll pay for the food, and the cat's food and the rent and the heat and everything else?"

Ethan thought of it for a second. "We can figure something out. Maybe I'll work the streets more. Maybe even all night. People feel exceptionally romantic at 4 in the morning. They'd like some violin."

Justin looked at Ethan in the mirror. "That sounds good. Only problem is you won't have a cell phone to call me from the hospital when someone mugs you and beats you up."

"Well, we don't want _that_ to happen." Ethan said and started kissing his cheek and down his neck.

Justin smiled. "No we don't. Now let me get my coat and go to work ok?"

Ethan begrudgingly moved away to sit on the bed again and watch Justin getting ready from there.

"Just call me the minute things get too tough for you over there. So I can come rescue you and we can go to that bistro we love and have hot chocolate." Ethan said after a minute.

Justin let out a disgusted grunt. "God I hate that place. And frankly I don't appreciate you putting me down before I even start working there."

"I'm not putting you down. I'm just saying, it's not going to be Liberty Diner. You're going to have to work hard there."

"Then I'm going to have to work hard there." Justin answered, sipping on a cup of coffee hurriedly. He ended up burning his tongue. Severe tongue burn probably counted as another bad omen, right?

Ethan kept staring at him pensively. "I asked around about that Brian Kinney guy."

"Who?"

"Your future boss. He has a reputation and is not one of the most sympathetic people to work for."

"Well, I'll have to make him into one then." Justin replied, getting tired of all of Ethan's jinxing.

"He'll probably be an asshole with no taste who won't appreciate your talent. And he'll have you do tasteless tacky advertisements for baby wipes and colognes."

Justin stopped on his way to the door. "They make great ads over there."

"Come on; is there such a thing as a great ad?"

"There will be once I'm through with it." Justin replied, trying to self-boost his confidence.

"Are you mad at me?" Ethan asked.

"No, I'm not mad at you."

"Yes you are. You are pursing your lips. You are super mad at me right now."

Justin let out a long sigh. "I have to go Ethan."

"See? And you haven't even worked an hour there yet. By the end of the week you'll have my head in a toilet or something."

Justin laughed half heartedly at Ethan's feeble attempt to lighten the mood. The truth was he was a little annoyed at the other man. And he'd be a lot more if he caused him to be late on his first day at work. "Bye." He tossed, turning his back.

"No kiss goodbye?"

The blonde sighed once more, but moved over to the bed to kiss Ethan on the lips.

"You'll do great." Ethan decided to finally encourage him. "They are lucky to have you."

Justin smiled and left, a lot less sure of himself than he had been that morning.

If a black cat crossed his path on his way to Vanguard, he'd probably just leave the whole damn thing all together.

* * *

_At Vanguard_

Justin had made it to work, well ahead of time. Ethan had managed to spook Justin well and good. Vanguard seemed much bigger and far more imposing than it had been when Justin had come for an interview. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to go and something to do, and the butterflies in his stomach were trying very hard to escape. Damn Ethan and all his jinxing!

Wendy, the receptionist, was mercifully nice. She smiled at him kindly, and told him go to the office of the Art Director who hired him, one Steven Matthews. Steven had been very nice and pleasant going at the interview, and Justin had found it easy to impress him.

He found Steven's office and was about to knock, when he noticed that the door was ajar and he could hear voices inside. Justin took a few steps back, wondering if he should interrupt, when he heard his name being mentioned.

" – Justin Taylor. His work was pretty impressive. This is his resume." Voice 1 said (it sounded like Steven.)

There was a slight pause.

"Who the fuck is this Taylor? Jesus, Steve, I leave you in charge for a week, and you hire some nineteen year old kid? I hope he can colour inside the lines. Did you bother reading his resume? He hasn't even completed his course at…at PIFA! What kind of person gets into PIFA and then decides to take time off? We probably have coat stands with a better sense of purpose. I can't go away for one goddamn week before this place turns into a nuthouse. One mistake and he's out – got it? No one is getting paid to babysit around here."

The butterflies inside Justin's stomach? They were dead after hearing that. He took several more steps backwards, and stood standing there, frozen. This was _not _a good way to start his new job. He almost wished he had been late, so that he wouldn't have heard that. Justin seriously considered turning around and leaving. Let Ethan work longer hours till he finds another agency to work for. Then he paused.

Ethan. Who would undoubtedly laugh at him and say 'I told you so' if Justin didn't manage to even last an hour at Vanguard. Fuck no_, _Justin thought. I _don't _need a babysitter, and I can certainly colour inside the lines. I guess I'll just have to prove my worth.

The door suddenly opened, and this he's-so-fucking-hot-he-cannot-be-real brunette walked out.

He was the handsomest, hottest man that Justin had ever laid his eyes upon. That face, that body…the inside of his mouth suddenly felt very, _very _dry.

"Justin!" Steven was right behind the brunette. "Good to see you here nice and early."

Justin managed to smile, though he was struggling to find the right words.

"Brian, this is Justin Taylor, the junior artist we hired. Justin, this is Brian Kinney, one of the partners at Vanguard."

_Holy fuck, the man was gorgeous!_

Brian looked Justin up and down, and then turned to Steven. "Does he talk, or do I have to pull a string?"

"Uh…pleased to meet you, Mr. Kinney. I've –"

Brian cut him off. "Whatever. Steve, I want the visuals for Spring Breeze on my table by three o'clock."

With that, he was gone.

The rest of the day flew past Justin. He didn't have much time meet the staff; in fact, he didn't have any time to do anything at all. It turned out that the visuals for Spring Breeze had not been touched for the entire length of Brian's absence, and Steve was scrambling to throw something together by three o'clock. Justin got paired up with a copy writer named Kathy, and the two of them were given the brief and told to produce 'at least' four concepts, because they supposedly had a week to have worked on it.

"Welcome to advertising, kiddo." Kathy said with a wry smile. Justin liked Kathy. She was at least 28, and apparently had worked as a feature writer at a women's magazine before switching to copywriting.

When they had finished the third concept, Justin nervously asked Kathy if they had to formally present them to Brian. Justin was so not looking forward to that.

Kathy laughed. "Are you kidding? You just joined today, and Spring Breeze isn't even my account. I'd like to see Steve try and explain to Brian how the two of us were working on these visuals for the better part of last week.

Nah, we'll have to have this shit together by two o'clock, and Steven or Josie will go over them with Brian. But don't worry, if Brian likes them he'll never know that it's our ideas, and if he doesn't like them, well, you better get used to making coffee for Steve, and I'll be back to working on the accounts I'm assigned to."

Justin didn't know whether he should be relieved or disappointed. One way or another, there was no way he was going to get stuck making coffee in _both _his jobs.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N :** A _huge_ thank you goes out to everyone who had read and reviewed this story so far, as well as those that put it on their alert lists, favourite lists and to all our silent readers. You're enthusiasm and support is overwhelming.

We love you guys!

* * *

_Brian's POV_

Brian decided to head straight for the diner instead of returning to Vanguard. He had just finished the presentation to the Spring Breeze client and was in an exceptionally good mood. He hadn't expected that. In fact, Brian hadn't expected the meeting to even go ahead as scheduled; he had been certain that Steve hadn't got the visuals done in his absence and Brian had already bought time from the client when Steve and Josie surprised him with some exceptional work in the afternoon. Brian had made some changes, but overall, he was pleased. Who knew that Steve could actually stick to a deadline and produce good work at the same time?

Steve had certainly been busy last week. He had actually worked on Spring Breeze _and _managed to hire an artist. Brian smiled to himself. That Justin Taylor was delicious. Brian had noticed him walking around the creative department. That ass alone would have been enough to interest him, but the kid was actually good looking, with a brilliant smile. Brian was sure that he had to be gay; the fact that Justin was practically drooling when he had first seen Brian was not lost on him. A week at the very worst, Brian thought. That's probably how long it'll take me to fuck him. He thought briefly about HR, but then dismissed the thought. The kid was nineteen. Practically a PIFA dropout. He wouldn't last more than a week, anyway. Brian would be surprised if he could even design a clearance sale ad. Blonde, good looking and nineteen. The likelihood of Justin actually being talented or even capable was slim to non-existent. Yup, perfect for a slow Wednesday afternoon, Brian thought to himself as he entered the dinner.

"Brian! When did you get back? How was Chicago?" Michael motioned him to come over (not that Brian would have gone anywhere else) and Ben smiled at him. He noticed Ted and Emmett.

"Last night. Chicago was –"

"Chicago was great, the men were hot, and you got your dick sucked off? Right?" Emmett interrupted him.

Brian frowned at him. What was with him? "That would be a summary of my first half an hour in Chicago, yes."

"Great. Now that we have confirmed what everyone already knew, can we move onto a more interesting topic? What time does his shift start?"

'Whose shift?" Brian couldn't believe that they actually had something of value to talk about that no one at the table was even interested in what he had been up to. Well, except Mikey, but he didn't really count.

"Sunshine's."

"_Sunshine?" _Brian looked around the table. Debbie hired someone called _Sunshine?_

Emmett was rolling his eyes. "Well obviously that isn't his real name – we can't remember his name, and Deb calls him Sunshine."

Brian looked at Emmett's bright pink t-shirt and snorted. "Sunshine and Rainbow Brite? I'm sure the two of you will make a charming pair."

Emmett glared at him, and Ted chuckled. "You know Brian, you'll probably find him hot too. Amazing ass –"

"Teddy, it's his smile!"

"Em, his smile makes him gorgeous, but really, it's his ass that counts."

Ben laughed. "Did either of you bother speaking to him? He's very smart…great personality."

"Only you, Professor, would value personality over a perfect ass." Brian found himself growing increasingly curious to meet this 'Sunshine'.

"Say what you will Brian, but one day, you'll realize what I mean."

"Heaven forbid." Brian rolled his eyes.

"You know, if I took Sunshine to Babylon, I think we could clean up the floor. He works the graveyard shift, and Deb said that the crowd can't keep their hands off him." Emmett seemed highly taken with his idea. "Oh my god, it's perfect! Do you think Debbie will give him a night off?"

Michael smiled indulgently. "I seriously doubt that, Em. But you could always ask."

"What is it about this…this Sunshine? There are plenty of men with good asses – or has all that technicolour finally affected your eyesight?"

Emmett laughed. "Brian, there is a _good _ass, and then there is the _perfect _ass. Trust me – when you see Sunshine, you'll be all over him."

Brian scoffed. "On the contrary, I already caught sight of the perfect ass today, in my art department no less. By Wednesday, I'd have done him, and then maybe I'll look for your Sunshine for dessert."

"Don't be so hasty to jump to conclusions." Ben was thoughtful. "For all his perfect ass and gorgeous smile, that kid is smart and he doesn't seem like someone who'd settle for just some roll in the hay. Not everyone who looks good is empty-headed."

Michael grinned and kissed Ben on the cheek. "And you are living proof of that!"

"Ugh, save us the domestic bliss quotient. So tell us Ben, what is such a dazzlingly bright fellow doing, bussing at some corner diner?"

"I think he has a full-time job somewhere else…and he's very young. Just eighteen or nineteen. He's left home, so I'm sure every penny helps."

"Oooh, fresh _young _meat!" Emmett clapped his hands in glee. "Brian, try keeping a straight face and telling me that you'd rather do your art department trick than an eighteen year old, bubble butted Sunshine! Though at that age, I might have trouble smuggling him into Babylon…"

Despite his apparent disinterest, Brian was very curious to see this Sunshine. For all his campiness, Emmett recognized talent when he saw it, so if Emmett was gushing about this Sunshine, Brian knew that guy must be hot. Well, this week was getting better and better…Justin Taylor at work, and Sunshine at the diner. Brian smiled in anticipation.

* * *

_Justin's POV  
_

Justin was in seventh heaven. Steven had come back from the presentation with a rave review. More importantly, Brian had liked the visuals and Justin couldn't think of praise higher than that. He had spent what time was left after he and Kathy had finished the project getting acquainted with the ad executive's work. The man was a genius. He had a knack for making any product seem attractive. And sexy. He sure as hell based a lot of his material on sex appeal. Which was to be expected, Justin figured. When you were that hot, you obviously start realizing that sex sells more than anything else.

Justin thought of one of his classes at PIFA. He remembered his professor once saying that what people like is always based on three things: blood, royalty and sperm. And Brian had certainly invested on the public's horniness.

After he had heard Steven saying that the boss had loved their work, Justin had suppressed the urge to barge into Brian's office and say: "It was me! I did that!"

He pushed open the door to the apartment he shared with Ethan, balancing a hot coffee and dozens of papers in one hand, his keys dangling from the other. After Steven was done giving them all the credit in world- which was definitely well deserved, Justin thought grinning, he had immediately loaded them with the universe's biggest pile of papers and told them to start working on their next project.

Justin was no fool. He knew the Art Director was milking the opportunity to take credit for their work while he just sat on his ass and did nothing. But Justin was willing to let it go for now. He was excited that he had this opportunity to be creative, and actually have his work appreciated, even though Brian didn't know it was his work.

Brian Kinney. The man was a mystery. Justin was certain that he had to be gay. He kept replaying their meeting in his head.

If he had been single, Justin would probably sleep with him in the blink of an eye.

He pushed such thoughts away from his mind though. The fact was he wasn't single. And he probably shouldn't even think in such a way. Ethan had been nothing short of perfect from the start. Justin could never do that to him.

As soon as the door opened, Justin was greeted by violin music. Ethan gave him a small smile in acknowledgement, but didn't otherwise move from his place in front of the window.

Justin took the stack of papers over to the coffee table, and immediately got to work.

An hour later, his eyes were killing him, he was starting to get a headache from Ethan's music- it did nothing to help him concentrate, and he was seriously considering the possibility that the advertising world was not the perfect place for him.

The screeching of the violin mercifully stopped, and Ethan came to sit next to him on the floor.

"Do you want to go eat out?" Ethan asked.

Justin tore his eyes away from the illustration. "Sorry, I'm busy. Can we order?"

"Sure." Ethan shrugged. "How was work?"

"Fine…" Justin replied absentmindedly. God, this colour was killing him. Maybe orange would be better?

"Do you…"

"Ethan, I'm sorry, could we talk later? I have work to do and my shift at the diner starts in a few hours…" Justin interrupted.

"Jesus, it's not like you are the president of the company or something. I'm sure you can do this later." Ethan said annoyed.

"I want to make a good impression Ethan. They just hired me, I can't exactly slack off, you know?" Justin tried to reason with him.

"Well, this job was supposed to be temporary. And since you started working there, it's as if the world depends on your efforts. They aren't going to fire you for a little delay."

Justin snorted. "You haven't met my boss."

"Great. When am _I_ going to see you then?"

"We live together. You see me every day…"

"Yes I see you every day. And you are always on the run. It's like I'm living alone." Ethan replied heatedly, rising to his feet.

"Why are you getting so worked up over this?" Justin asked incredulously. Hadn't Ethan been ignoring him from the time he got home because he was too busy practicing the violin?

"Why is this job so important to you?" Ethan shot back.

"You know that already." said Justin, glaring back at him. "Look, just… let me do this and on the weekend…we'll go out… I'll buy you dinner to celebrate that I got hired ok?"

"What's there to celebrate? The fact that I have to set an appointment to see my own boyfriend?"

Justin sighed heavily. "Please… can we just let this be for now? I don't want to fight."

"Fine." Ethan replied, even though it was evident in his posture that it wasn't fine with him in the least. He picked his keys up from the table, and taking his jacket and violin case, he moved towards the door.

"Ethan?" Justin called out. "Where are you going?"

"I have to work too you know." he replied acidly.

"What about take out?"

"I'm not hungry." Ethan tossed and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Justin walked into the diner from the backdoor, hoping to avoid Debbie. He was hungry, and wanted to grab something to eat from the kitchen without having to answer her twenty questions. Ethan had no doubt grabbed something to eat on the way, he thought. Justin had actually stopped to shower before starting his shift, and now he was out of time to actually eat something. _I hope at least the tips will be good tonight. _

When Justin crept in from the back, Kiki looked at him, and shook her head. She quietly passed him a lemon bar and a muffin. "Hurry up and eat that before Debbie comes, and get your ass out there."

Justin smiled at her gratefully before wolfing down her offerings, and then made his way to the floor. As soon as he walked out on to the floor, he was summoned.

"Hey Sunshine, over here. How are you this evening, baby?"

Justin smiled at Emmett and walked over to his booth, notebook in hand, where he could see Ted and Ben, and the backs of two other men. One of them must be Michael…but who was the other guy? That group kept expanding by the day.

"Hi Emmett, what can I get you gentlemen this…_Mr. Kinney?" _Justin couldn't keep the surprise off his face. Brian Kinney was _here_? At the diner?

"Mr. Kinney?" Emmett frowned. "Brian, you know Sunshine?"

"Hello Taylor. I didn't know you moonlighted here. And it's Brian. Mr. Kinney sounds like you're talking to my father."

Justin struggled to keep his voice uniform and answer Brian. He did not want Brian making another snarky remark "Uh…I've been working here for about a week now."

When in doubt about what to say, smile. So Justin flashed Brian one of his biggest, brightest smiles. Then he thought of something to say. "What can I get you guys?"

Brian leered at him. "You? Are _you_ on the menu?"

"Er…uh…you're funny Mist...er… Brian."

"He'll have a coffee. I'll have some fries." Michael looked embarrassed on behalf of Brian. Ted, Emmett and Ben also gave their orders and Justin was relieved to make his way back to the counter.

Brian Kinney, his boss, the hottest man in the universe, was here. At the diner. Well, at least Justin could be sure that he was gay. Justin felt embarrassed. Brian will think that he's a total douche, working at a diner till the crack of dawn…how many junior artists bussed tables in their spare time? Ugh. Of all diners that Brian Kinney could possibly frequent, he would have to pick this one.

When Justin turned around to find Brian seated at the counter, with his friends looking on curiously from behind, Justin's embarrassment only increased. The lazy, seductive smile on Brian's face only served to heighten Justin's discomfiture.

Justin exhaled slowly and plastered another smile on his face. "Mi…Brian, can I get you something else?"

"What time are you done here?"

"I'm closing. The diner that is. I mean I have the closing shift. I always have the closing shift." _Jesus Taylor, get a grip!_

Brian frowned. "And you start at nine everyday at Vanguard? Are you hiding a battery pack somewhere on that body of yours?"

Justin turned scarlet as Brian's eyes roamed over his body. "It's nothing…I can manage without an issue."

"Hmmmm…I thought you might want to join us to go to Babylon. Get someone to cover for you here."

Those damn butterflies started fluttering again. "Oh I couldn't…I'm not a member at Babylon, and there isn't anyone else here…Debbie hired me specifically for the closing shift…"

Brian smirked. "And we wouldn't want to disappoint Deb now, would we?"

"Umm…no…"

Brian leaned forward, and instinctively, Justin leaned towards him, as if Brian was about to tell him a secret.

"So let me get this straight: you would rather stay here and work till three in the morning because you're afraid of disappointing Debbie, instead of coming with me to Babylon, where you could drink, dance and be the centre of my evening. Have I got it right?"

Justin felt his eyes widen. "Centre of your evening…?"

"Aw Sunshine, you didn't think I was just making conversation with you here, did you? I want to fuck you. An evening at Babylon is the perfect appetizer for a booze-filled fuckfest – one I guarantee you will remember for as long as you live. So, why don't you go to the kitchen, ask Kiki to cover for you, and we can get the hell out of here?"

"You…_you_ want to sleep with _me_?" Justin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Brian Kinney wanted _him_?

Brian gave an exaggerated sigh. "Isn't that what I just said? Unless 'I want to fuck you' has an altogether different meaning where you're from?"

"But we can't. You're my boss. Isn't it against company policy?"

"Company policy?" Brian held his left hand up as he crossed his heart with his right hand. "I promise not to tell, and you can do the same. _Fuck _company policy. Besides, it isn't company policy – if I can fuck the client, I sure as hell can fuck a junior artist. At any rate, it isn't as if you're going to be at Vanguard for long."

Justin's heart rate, which was galloping at a thousand beats per minute all this time, suddenly stopped.

"What do you mean? Am I being let go? Did I do something? Did Steven say something?" Justin couldn't believe it. Steven had loved the work he did for Spring Breeze. _Brian _had loved the work he did – he had saved Steven's ass. Why was he being fired?

Brian looked at Justin with some amount of surprise. "Exactly how long are you planning on staying at Vanguard? I may want to fuck you, but business is business. We don't keep freeloaders. And you, my dear sweet Sunshine, are a freeloader."

"A _freeloader_?"

"A freeloader. A talentless hack that cannot contribute anything useful. What did you do at work today? You haven't even met anyone in the Client Service department – I know, because I asked them. First day of work at one of the biggest agencies in Pittsburgh, and you didn't so much as venture out of your cubicle. You'd be lucky if you last a week. What _did _you do today?"

Justin felt trapped. He knew that Brian didn't know that he and Kathy were responsible for the visuals that Brian presented. Telling him now would certainly land Steven in trouble, and Steven in trouble meant Justin in bigger trouble.

"I helped Kathy with some visuals…"

"Of course you did." Brian was back to smirking. "We're wasting time here. Get Kiki to cover your shift."

"Brian, we work together! It would be totally unprofessional!"

"So then you want to wait till you get fired? I should ask you again at the end of the week?"

Justin stared at Brian. This man was serious. He suddenly felt anger starting to bubble inside of him. Justin hadn't flirted with Brian – he had been as tongue-tied as a school kid. Yet, here he was, being picked up like some street corner hooker for a cheap fuck. He might be young and broke and PIFA drop out, but he was _not _some bargain basement product on sale for the highest bidder. Brian Kinney propositioning him was not altogether different from being pawed on by the graveyard shift customers.

Justin's tone was bordering on icy. "Were I to get fired, by the end of this week, month or year, the answer to your question would still be no. Sleeping with someone with whom there is a degree of mutual attraction is one thing, even if I were to meet such a person at some nightclub, but being propositioned as if I was the daily special off the menu isn't really my thing."

Evidently no one had spoken like that to Brian before, because he took a moment to recover before answering Justin. "So you're finding fault with my approach?"

Justin shook his head in exasperation. What _was_ it with men today? First Ethan, and now Brian."I'm seeing someone Brian. I have a boyfriend. Whatever your approach would have been, the answer would still be no."

Brian tapped his index finger against the counter. "Interesting. So in order of importance as to why you _won't _sleep with me: your job comes first, your affronted pride comes second and your boyfriend comes a poor third. Good to know."

Justin's indignant protests fell on deaf ears, as Brian made his way back to the booth.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: To all our incredible readers (silent and otherwise), reviewers and and those who put this story on their alert/favourite lists: THANK YOU!

* * *

_Justin's POV_

"Rachel and Joey? That's stupid. Ross is her lobster" Justin stated, doing the weird lobster-walking-on-the-beach sign with his hands for emphasis.

"It is not stupid!" Kathy exclaimed indignant.

They were having their coffee-and-cigarette break that had quickly become routine. Around them were a dozen Vanguard employees, all gathered in the one room that didn't have a "no smoking" sign. Justin figured he could get his nicotine fix just by inhaling the fumes in that place. But he nonetheless enjoyed his cigarette immensely. He couldn't smoke at home. Ethan said it was a disgusting habit and he would not tolerate it at the apartment.

He liked Kathy. Her weird theories about "Friends" aside, she was a fun person to be around.

"Besides, Joey is hotter. And I think David Schwimmer is gay… does he look gay to you?" she asked, as though Justin was an expert of the sort.

"Tell you what. Next time I'm in Hollywood I'll hit on him. And then you'll have your answer." He replied.

Kathy laughed good-naturedly.

"Justin!" Steve approached them. "Here you are. Brian wants to see you in his office."

"What about?" Justin asked, confused. After yesterday's drama, he wasn't sure he was up to facing the lovely Mister Kinney.

"No idea." Steve shrugged. "But you better get over there fast. He doesn't appreciate waiting." he added and with that he left.

Justin put out his cigarette in a hurry. So much for his 10 minute break.

"Fuck. Did you do something?" Kathy asked worried.

"I don't think so" Except maybe turning down his advances….

"Well, he never asks to see any of us for good… Just…don't get fired ok? I kinda like you."

"I'll do my best." Justin reassured her.

* * *

When he made it to the office a couple of minutes later, Brian was busy yelling at someone over the phone.

"Are you listening to yourself? What kind of bullshit excuse is that?" Brian was saying to his rant-of-the-day victim. "I don't care. Just make it work." He hung up the phone, annoyed.

"Taylor…" he said after finally noticing Justin standing awkwardly next to the door. Brian got up from his chair to close the door behind Justin. "How nice of you to finally come. I've been waiting for you for god knows how long."

"I was on my break…" he tried to justify himself.

"And your point is?" Brian said, raising one eyebrow.

"It won't happen again." Justin replied in his most professional tone.

"You're right. It won't."

Justin could not help but notice how close to him Brian was right now. And the long look he was giving him… it felt like he was trying to read his mind or something.

And, god - what cologne _was_ that? It smelled really _really _good…

"Take a seat." Brian indicated, after what seemed ages, and moved behind the desk to sit on his 'throne of power'.

Justin sat down and looked at him expectantly.

"This" Brian pulled a large envelope out of seemingly nowhere and let it down on the desk with a considerable thud "is my current project. Callisto Furniture. Now the visuals, as you can see…" he opened the envelope at the correct page without even looking "is shit."

Justin looked down at it. It wasn't _that_ bad…maybe it needed a little fixing here and there…

"It's not perfect…"

"It is shit." Brian repeated. Well, obviously Justin's opinion didn't matter that much. "The stupid Art Director that was responsible did nothing of what I asked him to."

"And you're telling me this because…?"

"It's obvious isn't it? I want you to take over."

"_Me_?" Justin asked surprised. A whole project on him?

"Yes, you. You don't have to do much really. The general idea is there. You just have to make it actually worth looking at."

Justin was lost for words. "Um… yes… ok…"

"Ok? Great." Brian smiled. "Are we done?" he didn't wait for an answer and just went ahead and started busying himself with some other issue.

"Done? But… you haven't told me what you want."

"Instructions are in the envelope." Brian commented absentmindedly.

Justin took a long breath before getting up. "I'll have it ready by Monday."

If he didn't know better, he would have sworn Brian chuckled. "You'll have it done by tomorrow. The client can't wait any longer."

Brian then went on ignoring him, filing away papers.

"But… Brian…" he tried to get his attention "You have to give me more time…"

"Let's get things straight. You work _for_ me, not with me. So, I would appreciate it if you referred to me as Mr. Kinney. It's only a sign of good manners, don't you think?"

Wow. Talk about cold.

"Mr. Kinney. What you are asking of me is impossible." Justin tried reasoning with him.

Brian stood up with a long suffering look. He leaned his weight on the desk.

"It is not impossible. It is just… hard."

God, those eyes. Justin couldn't help but stare into them. At least he tried to. It was surely better than getting distracted by Brian's lips. He felt himself flush at the proximity.

"But… if you are not _up_ for it…" Brian went on, his stare making it perfectly clear that he was fully aware of the effect his voice was having on Justin "we can always find something else for you to do. Maybe you can… _color _something. If you can work it around your breaks of course."

Justin grabbed the damned envelope and excused himself with no other comment. He left the office with a lot of unanswered questions and definitely a lot hornier than when he came in.

* * *

Justin had spent the rest of the day at work redoing the visuals. Brian had given him just printouts, and Justin had to go from creative group to creative group, looking for the original computer files. And when he did find them, he realized that they had been formatted such that Justin couldn't do any changes to it. He had spent more time reformatting the damn visuals than he had revising it.

Justin was beginning to see Brian's point. The visuals were press ads for modern, yuppie furniture…and these visuals looked like an Ikea catalogue that had been shot by an avant-garde French cinematographer, with everything basked in blue light and slightly out of focus. Ugh…who would want to buy furniture like this? Well, maybe I'm being a bit too harsh, Justin thought, remembering Ethan's flea-market couch.

He looked over at Brian's instructions. Brian (or one of his minions) had rewritten the entire copy. The colours had to be redone completely, which meant each image had to be manipulated all over again. And then the backgrounds…Justin frowned, as he went over the instructions once more. Brian clearly thought that Justin was incapable of creative thought. The instructions were precise, and seemed better suited to a computer operator than a junior artist.

Justin's eyes narrowed. He wasn't _expected_ to do anything creative – this was assembly line work, and the trick was only whether Justin could beat the clock and have each section – living, dining, bedroom etc – finished on time. Justin glanced at his watch. If he worked on it without a break, he could finish it all just before he was supposed to start at the diner. He'd have to come early tomorrow to get everything printed and mounted and ready on time, but he supposed that that wasn't the worst of it. Well, at least Brian wasn't making a secret of what he thought of Justin's talents…or lack thereof.

Justin sighed deeply as he dialed Ethan's number…this wasn't going to be pretty.

"Justin? Are you calling me with some good news? Like you quit your job?"

"Ethan! I've been here less than a week – why would I quit?"

"A guy can always hope. Anyway, I was about to call you – listen, Lara and John are having a small get together at their place tonight, and I thought that we could grab a bottle of wine and head there –"

Justin hated Lara. He hated John even more. They had less personality than a shoelace. "Ethan, I have work tonight."

"Can't you call in sick?"

"Ethan, you know I can't." Justin felt his stomach tying up in knots – he hadn't even told Ethan about working late at Vanguard, and they were already heading towards an argument.

"Why not? People fall sick all the time."

"Not people who need the money. And I feel bad about lying to Debbie."

"Sure. Of course. You feel bad about lying to Debbie, but you don't feel bad about ditching your own boyfriend."

"Ethan, please. I'm not ditching you – I didn't even know about Lara and John's thing! I just don't want to –"

"Whatever , Justin. Why'd you call?"

Justin sighed again. "Look, I got some extra work here that's due tomorrow so I have to work late…I'll head to the diner from here and then see you later, ok?"

Ethan laughed incredulously. "Are you kidding me? You've been there less than a week and you're already doing overtime?"

"Ethan –"

"If you can spare the time, pick up a bag of cat food for Wolfram on your way back."

With that, Ethan cut the line.

* * *

_Brian Kinney_. Justin was doing something as mundane as clearing dirty plates, but he couldn't stop replaying the conversation in his office. Brian oozed pure, raw sex. He felt himself harden in spite of himself. _Stop it. Think dead kittens. And puppies. And Ethan. _

But that was proving to be a very difficult task. Justin had just barely managed to finish revising the visuals before practically sprinting to the diner. And then all he could do was replay the conversation over and over again in his head, seeing Brian, complete with the double entendres. It was bad enough that he was working for the hottest man in the universe; the hottest man in the universe wanted to sleep with him. As insulted as Justin was by the thought, he was also flattered.

"Well, who fucked you across the table?"

"What?" Kiki's voice brought Justin back to earth.

Kiki grinned. "I know that look – that's the sex look."

"The sex look?" Justin tried his best nonchalant voice.

"Yeah…the look people get when they're thinking of sex. The sex look."

"Ha ha ha! I was actually thinking about work. Nothing sexy about that at all." Well, that was a lie. Brian's campaigns were all about sex. He could make cat litter sexy. Cat litter…Wolfram…_shit. _Ethan was going to skin him alive when he got home.

Justin watched as Kiki cleared a table across him. This campaign for Callisto had none of Brian's touches to it. Unless the endless blue lighting was supposed to be a throwback to porn movies, Justin thought with shudder. The visuals were efficient, but not sexy. Ironic, considering that the store was named after one of Zeus' lovers, he thought. I wonder that Brian didn't pick up on that…

_The stupid Art Director that was responsible did nothing of what I asked him to._

Of course! Brian must have given a totally different brief, and the only sexual element that got translated visually was the creepy blue lighting! Suddenly, the wheels in Justin's head started working faster than he could blink.

What if…what if he were to design a secondary campaign? One that would probably be more in line with something Brian would come up with? Something that looked like furniture Brian Kinney would buy? Something raw, sexual and almost animal…and yet classy. Human figures…modern and sexy, blended together with the furniture…men, women…as if the Kama Sutra had been sketched by the love child of Marcel Breuer and Giorgio Armani.

Justin rushed to the back and quickly sketched the ideas that popped up in his head before he forgot them…and as the pictures formed in his mind, he was assaulted by another brainwave. An animation…a short 15 second spot…he could base it on just one of the visual! Of course, he wouldn't be able to do a voice over, or come up with effective copy, but he could cover it up if he could find a sultry instrumental riff…maybe _Roxanne__?_

He had his laptop with him. Justin glanced at the clock. His shift finished at three in the morning…that gave him six hours until he was due at work. If he didn't waste time travelling back and forth and stayed at the diner all night, he could try and finish his campaign. Then, if he had time, he could rush back home to quickly shower and change, and if he didn't have time, he could ask Daphne to go pick up a set of clothes for him and drop it off at the diner so he could shower and change here itself and rush back to work – he would anyway have to get there as early as possible because he would have two campaigns to take printouts for instead of one. And get them mounted.

_Fuck. _He literally wouldn't get a wink of sleep. But if he could pull this off – if he could earn Brian Kinney's respect – it would _totally_ be worth it.

First things first. Justin called Debbie, and asked if it was ok if he spent the entire night at the diner, after closing up. After painstakingly explaining to her – at least five times – that yes, he was alright, and no, he wasn't hiding from anything or anyone and it truly was just because of work, and no, he didn't want her to come over – he finally got Debbie to say ok. Next, he called Daphne to ask her to help out, and that went much easier. His third call went out to Kathy, whom he begged for just two copy lines that he could rotate for his visuals, so that there would be some visual-verbal connect.

And the last call he made was of course the most difficult.

"_What? _You're spending the night at the _diner? _The _entire _night? So that you can _work_? Justin, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Ethan, I'm so incredibly sorry…but I really need to do this. Brian hates me! I just want to be able to show that I'm good."

"Justin, if they can't appreciate your talent, you should just walk out of there. You don't need to prove yourself to anyone – we can find you another job somewhere – Starbucks is always hiring, and it wouldn't have one tenth of this stress."

Justin struggled to keep his voice under check. "I don't _want _to work at Starbucks. I want to be at Vanguard. And I want them to realize that I'm not some freeloader."

"Freeloader? What the hell is that? And aren't you going to at least change your clothes? You must be stinking."

Justin grimaced. Well, that was nice to know. "Daphne said that she could pick up some clothes and drop it by…" his voice trailed off as he braced himself for the next onslaught.

"Daphne? I should've known that she would encourage this nonsense. I dunno Justin…this job, this company…it's fucking retarded. And you haven't even been there a week. And I'm guessing that there's no cat food at the diner for Wolfram? Yeah, I thought so. I guess I'll see you whenever then."

For the second time that day, Ethan hung up on him. Justin turned around to see Kiki quickly walking out of the now empty kitchen.

Ok. Clear your mind Justin, and think about nothing but this campaign for the next six hours. You can do this. You _will _do this.

* * *

"Justin, you're amazing!" Kathy said, as she helped him mount his visuals.

Justin hadn't had time to go home and get dressed, and he had barely managed to brush his teeth and wash his face before Daphne dropped him off at Vanguard. He had sprinkled himself with a heavy dose of cologne that Daphne had wisely brought with her. Better to smell like a perfume garden than the Liberty Diner, Justin figured.

He was still running out of time, and when Kathy walked in early, asking if he needed any help, Justin almost kissed her. Almost. Together, they printed and mounted all the visuals, and Justin actually thought that he might have time to grab a bite to eat when Cynthia came. It was barely nine thirty.

"Justin." She looked at him sympathetically. "Brian wants you in his office, with the visuals for Callisto."

Justin nodded weakly. Kathy looked at him.

"Do you want me to help you carry some of these in there?"

"No, I can manage. Though I'd love it if you could just stand next to me for moral support."

Kathy squeezed his shoulder. "Justin, this shit is brilliant. You're gonna be just fine."

Justin took a deep breath, and together with Kathy, they headed towards the lion's den.

* * *

"What the fuck is all that?" Brian frowned at Justin as he walked in with his laptop and twelve visuals balanced precariously under each arm.

Justin decided not to answer him – or look at him - and placed his laptop on Brian's desk before setting the visuals down.

"Good morning Mr. Kinney."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "You look like shit. I guess one day of _hard_ work really might kill you. Pity."

Justin tried not to fall for the bait. _Dead kittens and puppies. And a dead Bambi._

Kathy was already beginning to look worried.

"Mr. Kinney, all the revisions you requested on the Callisto campaign has been done. I have the printouts with me here, and I…hope…trust…hope…that you …that they are what you were expecting."

Brian was looking at him expressionlessly.

Justin bulldozed ahead, while his courage still held sway. "I also…I also took the liberty of working on an alternative campaign for Callisto." Brian's mask slipped a little bit, as he arched an eyebrow at Justin.

"I have several visuals prepared for that as well…and a short – 15 second – animation."

Now the surprise on Brian's face was slightly more evident.

"The copy…it's just rough copy, but it's more the concept and the style that I…that we have right now…anyway…um…let me start...show…let me…us…let us show you the work."


	4. Chapter 4

_Brian's POV_

As Justin presented the work to him, Brian was seriously beginning to doubt his previous impression of the blond. The effort that Justin had put in was evident, and the independent concept could not be called half bad. It was, in fact, quite good.

But still, it annoyed him to the nth degree that Justin had just utterly dismissed his wishes and done something completely off the map.

"You know I asked some very specific things from you. This…" he gestured at the original visuals Justin had brought with him "is certainly not what I told you to do."

Justin looked at him for a while, clearly baffled. "But…isn't it good?"

"It's not a matter of whether it is good or not. As an employee, you are supposed to do what we ask of you, not go your merry way and do whatever the fuck comes to mind."

"Mr. Kinney…" Justin replied, picking his words carefully. "I am confident that working in an art department has a lot to do with taking initiative and creating what is best for the product. I'm an artist, I create. I wasn't hired to carry out chores with no input of my own, just as much as I wasn't hired to make coffee."

A stifled gasp escaped Kathy's lips.

"You've been working here for less than a month. Don't you think that you should learn the ropes first, before starting to apply your "artistic input"? I had my reasons for asking what I did for Callisto furniture. I didn't just wake up on the wrong side of the bed one morning and think 'let's do a crappy job on this ad'."

"Well, in my opinion, what you had instructed me to do was inadequate. It doesn't do justice to the product. And I think that when you compare the two campaigns, you can see that yourself."

Kathy put her hands over her mouth and looked between the two of them with wide eyes.

The kid had nerve. Just as Brian was about to answer, the door opened and Ryder came in, without even knocking. _What the fuck was going on today?_ He had specifically told Cynthia he was not to be disturbed, for fuck's sakes.

"Brian I need to…" Ryder stopped mid-sentence. "Oh. I see you are busy. I'm sorry for the interruption. Anyway, I need you to do something about this Eyeconic Optics account. I just talked to Betsy on the phone and she doesn't like what we've put together so far."

"She was perfectly happy with it at the presentation yesterday."

"What can I say? She says she wants it to be changed. She's insufferable really. Maybe it's her time of the month." Ryder added, grinning goofily at his own joke.

Brian repressed the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll see what I can do."

"Is that for the Callisto account?" Ryder asked, noticing the visuals.

Brian nodded absentmindedly.

"Well done! Exactly your style, my friend. I don't know how you come up with these things. This is a brilliant man, people, you mark my words" he told Justin and Kathy, wagging his finger toward them. "You're going to learn a lot from him."

Brian gave him a tight-lipped snarl. He noticed Justin trying to contain the sunshine smile that was threatening to take over his features.

"I'll leave you all then." Ryder said, when no answer seemed to come, and excused himself from the office.

Brian ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. How was he supposed to tell the kid off when his own partner had just deemed his work equal to Brian's own?

"Kathy, could you leave me and Taylor alone?"

She nodded, and after a short worried glance at Justin, moved to the door.

"And tell Cynthia I want to talk to her later on your way out."

When they were alone in the room, he pulled a cigarette out of his pack hurriedly. He needed to think.

"Are you allowed to smoke inside the building?"

Brian let out a surprised laugh. "What are you going to do, tell on me?"

"No, of course not… I… I just…" the blonde began to say, fidgeting.

"Stop acting like a spaz and sit down." Brian cut him off.

Justin sat on the chair carefully, looking at him as if expecting him to go off and fire him at any second.

Brian sighed. When had he become the big bad wolf?

"You want one?" he asked, extending his hand that was holding the pack.

"Sure." Justin answered, smiling and surprised. He took one and put it between his lips.

Brian leaned across the desk to light Justin's cigarette, and the want in the blonde's eyes was so evident that Brian found himself lost in them for a few seconds. Why was the kid so stubborn? It was obvious that he wanted Brian, just as much as Brian wanted him.

He lit his own cigarette and looked down at the files Ryder had left on his office, without really seeing them. In the silence that followed, Brian thought over what had happened. Justin's presentation _was_ impressive. He wouldn't go so far as Ryder had and call it brilliant, but the talent was there.

"You did it all by yourself?" he asked, doubtful.

"Of course."

"No one helped you, not even Kathy?"

"No!" Justin exclaimed, looking offended.

Brian contemplated him for a while. He seemed sincere.

"You know, I'm not being unreasonable here. I need to be able to trust you to do what I ask."

Justin looked ready to disagree at first, but finally nodded and said "I understand."

Brian sighed again. Either the kid had a whole lot of beginner's luck on his side, or Brian had someone who could prove really useful in his hands.

"Ok, Taylor, here is what we're going to do. I've been working on this project for weeks, and that bitch over at Eyeconics doesn't seem to be satisfied with a goddamn thing. Quite frankly, I'm getting frustrated. I don't know… maybe I've lost my interest in it, but I don't see anything wrong with it. So, maybe a more "artistic" perspective is what this needs. You come up with something, and you do it by Monday, and then I'll go join Ryder in writing odes to your genius ok?"

"You don't need an excuse to fire me. You can just tell me" Justin replied, apparently forgetting his previous timidity.

"This is not a punishment, Taylor. It's a challenge. So stop whining and get to work."

"Ok." Justin murmured, putting out his cigarette reluctantly, and gathering the folders in his hands.

When Justin was near the door, Brian called out to him.

"Oh, and Taylor."

The blonde turned to him, expectantly.

"Good job."

The blinding smile Brian was on the receiving end of convinced him that this wouldn't end well.

At least not for Justin's boyfriend.

* * *

_Justin's POV_

Justin breathed deeply, taking in the nicotine-filled air in the designated smoking room. After that meeting with Brian in the morning, he had wanted to eat wads of nicotine, not just smoke it. He could see the sun set in the distance, and he absently crouched down on the floor as he started sketching the scene before him while his thoughts drifted off.

What a man. What a_ man. _Justin couldn't figure out whether he hated Brian or liked Brian. What he knew for certain that Brian Kinney was _very _dangerous to his well-being. One look into those deep hazel eyes and Justin was totally lost. It was easy for Brian to call him a spaz; Brian didn't have to concentrate on work and look at his own face at the same time.

Justin shook himself. He had a boyfriend. It simply would not do to start fantasizing about a boss who probably hated him. A boss who hates you and wants to get into your pants at the same time, a voice inside his head said. Justin leaned against the wall. This wasn't helping at all, and very soon, images of dead puppies and dead kittens were going to start losing their power, and what was he going to do then?

Justin tried to think of the Callisto campaign he had done; thank heavens for Ryder – Justin was fairly certain that if not for Ryder walking in, Justin wouldn't have gotten the 'good job' at all. He had begun to wonder if Brian genuinely wasn't too pleased with the work he had slaved over, but he had his answer when Kathy came beaming later in the day with several changes Brian had wanted done before the visuals were presented to the client. Changes to _Justin's _campaign. Nothing and nobody could wipe the stupid grin off Justin's face after that.

Justin didn't want to lose his momentum, so he had spent the rest of the day doing the changes that Brian had wanted. Brian had scribbled out some copy, wanting Justin to incorporate it into some below-the-line promotional material as well, so his entire day was pretty much spent on polishing up the Callisto campaign. Which Justin had done willingly, until Steven had came around four fifteen to dump two new briefs on his table.

Justin put a pause on his thoughts for a few minutes as he concentrated on the sunset he was capturing.

Steven was such a fucking _idiot. _He hadn't been able to give Justin any guidance whatsoever; Justin was certain that Steven didn't understand a word on either of the briefs. Steven had said they were due in two weeks, but when Justin read the briefs, they had been written two weeks ago…meaning that both projects were due by Monday. Which meant that Justin had to rearrange his entire schedule. The Eyeconics campaign for Brian obviously took precedence over everything else, but there was no way that Justin could ignore the work given to him by his immediate supervisor.

Justin sighed. How was he to finish three campaigns by Monday? He thought of coming in during the weekend, but Kathy had informed him that he wouldn't have clearance at his level, and that it made far more sense for him to work late and have everything finished by Friday evening. So he had three campaigns to crack, and anything else that would be dumped on his table before the weekend.

He had already called Debbie and sweet talked his way out of all his shifts between now and Friday. Debbie said that she'd get Kiki and Loretta to cover his shifts, but that meant that Justin would have to work all his shifts, plus Kiki's and Loretta's shifts over the weekend. Effectively, he'd be spending his whole weekend at the diner…and probably sleeping in his cubicle during the week.

He just had Ethan left to call. He had tried to text Ethan earlier, but had discovered that his phone (already years old and rightfully belonging in a museum) was slowly dying on him. The screen was barely working. _I guess I'll just have to leave a voicemail, since Ethan was still probably working the streets_. Justin giggled to himself…that made Ethan sound like a hustler, not a street musician.

Justin put his pencil down and massaged his right hand with his left. It had been over a year since the bashing, but his hand still went into spasms when it was overworked, and Justin knew that he was _definitely _overworking it. And he still had more work left to do. He looked at his sketch, wondering if he should add anything more to it.

"Don't overdo it…from where I'm standing, it looks pretty good."

Justin jumped at the sound of Brian's voice, and turned to find Brian leaning against the doorframe. _How long had he been standing there?_

"Bri…uh…"

What was he doing here again? Justin closed his sketch pad, and scrambled to his feet, while his face rapidly turned the colour of the setting sun. Technically, it was after five o'clock, but Brian probably thought that he was slacking off. _Just what I need._

"Can I see that?"

"What? _This?_ It's nothing, really…" Justin did _not _want Brian to see what was inside the book…especially one particular sketch…

"Good. I love looking at nothing. Always _so_ interesting." Before Justin could protest, Brian stepped forward and plucked the book out of Justin's hands.

"Mr. Kinney that's…" _Fuck._

It was very difficult to read Brian's expression as he flipped through the book – he had sketches of Ethan, Daphne, Kathy, the view from Ethan's apartment (funny how he still thought of the apartment as Ethan's place), Debbie, Kiki and the newly completed sunset. There was also a sketch he had done earlier that day during his lunch break, of Brian and Cynthia, deep in conversation at Cynthia's table. He wondered what Brian was thinking, but was too scared to ask.

It seemed to take an eternity, but Brian finally closed the sketch pad and handed it back to Justin. But when Justin tried to take it, he realized that Brian still held onto one end.

"Why'd you drop out of PIFA?"

At least he wasn't commenting on his own mug shot being featured in there.

"Uh…I…uh…just wanted to take some time off, you know…" Justin wasn't at all comfortable explaining the concept that was Craig Taylor to Brian. He tried tugging on the book, but Brian's grip was too strong.

"No, actually, I don't know. Why did you want to take time off?"

Short of jumping out of the window, he would have to walk past Brian to leave, but that was still more desirable than standing around explaining his fucked up family, or worse still, why he was sketching his boss.

Fuck it, Justin thought. Now that he's seen it, let him keep the damn sketch book. Justin let go of the end he was holding.

"I have to go finish some work. Excuse me"

Brian didn't move an inch, and Justin felt as if his whole body was on fire as he brushed past the other man on his way out. _Oh my fucking god…what is wrong with me?_

By the time Justin made it back to his own table, he wasn't sure if his body had started to spontaneously combust. Nope, he was still in one piece. Just barely, but still in one piece. He hadn't even managed to ask Brian what he was doing there, or whether he had been looking for Justin. _Double fuck. _

He quickly dialed Ethan's number, eager to leave a voicemail, and was surprised when Ethan picked up on the third ring.

"Hey handsome, are you still slaving away for corporate America?"

"Ethan, I thought that you'd be out working by now…"

"What, now? I came in for a break. What are you still doing at work? Shouldn't you be on your way home?"

"About that, I'm going to have to work late this week…I have these three campaigns that I need to finish by Monday."

"Oh."

There was such a long pause that Justin was beginning to think that Ethan had hung up on him.

"Ethan? Listen, I'm –"

"Jus, this is fucking ridiculous. You know that, right? You've been there less than a week. Isn't there anybody else there that can do this shit?

"Ethan, I need to prove myself here. I have zero qualifications and even less experience. If they ask me to do cartwheels and juggle at the same time, I have to shut up and do it, whether I want to or not."

"Why is it that you'll do anything anyone asks you to, except me?

"That's not true and you fucking know it."

"Justin, this is Pittsburgh, not feudal Russia. Just walk out of there!"

"I need this job; _we _need this job. How are we going to pay rent –"

"We'll manage somehow. You can work at a Starbucks."

"I'm _not_ working at Starbucks. I'm not doing two jobs where I have to be on my feet all fucking day." Justin started rubbing his temple; it was the same damn argument, all over again. He should record himself speaking and play it back to Ethan.

"And what about your shifts at the diner? Did you call Debbie?"

"Yeah…she said I didn't have to come in for the rest of the week…but I'd have to work double over the weekend to cover up for it." Justin braced himself for onslaught that he knew would be come. And Ethan didn't disappoint.

"What the fuck Justin! You _promised _to spend the weekend with me! Remember? You fucking _scheduled _me in, and now you're actually cancelling? I'm your boyfriend Justin, not your roommate!"

"I'm sorry Ethan, you know I didn't mean to cancel…I just…look, this is only temporary, until I prove myself here, and then I won't have to put in all this extra time."

"Isn't that what you said yesterday? Wasn't this mega campaign you worked on last night supposed to prove your capabilities? So what the hell happened with that campaign?"

"Bri…they liked it, but it's just one campaign. They need to see more; they need to know that I'm reliable and –"

"_I _need to know you're reliable; _I_ need to see more! I've barely seen you all week! Justin, did it ever occur to you that maybe you're just not cut out for Vanguard?"

Justin actually stopped breathing for a minute. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean that it's not normal for a company to work their employees to the bone like this. If you have to keep proving yourself to them over and over again like this, maybe that's because you're just not good enough. Maybe they're trying to tell you that and you're too blind to see it."

Justin was too shocked to say anything. Even all of Brian's drama earlier in the day hadn't insulted him in the way that Ethan just had. Is that what he thought; that Justin's work just wasn't good enough? Is that what everyone thought? Is that what Brian thought?

_No one helped you, not even Kathy?_

"Ethan, I have to go now. I'll catch you later."

* * *

By the time Justin walked into the diner on Saturday morning, he was ready to wring somebody's – anybody's – neck with his bare hands, he was that frustrated. From Wednesday evening till Saturday morning, all he had done with Ethan was argue. He was beginning to feel like an over-worked husband, being nagged to death by his wife.

If Ethan had just complained about Justin cancelling on him and not having enough time for anything or anybody except work, he would have been genuinely sorry. But Ethan's comments from Wednesday about Justin's work not being good enough was a thorn in Justin's side. He was furious with Ethan for doubting him and was terrified that Ethan might be right, which made him all the more angry. His inability to discuss the point with Ethan in any manner or form only increased his frustration.

Brian didn't help matters. Justin had expected his sketch book to materialize on Thursday, but it hadn't. When it hadn't appeared by Friday, Justin was pretty certain that he wasn't getting it back. Brian had even sent Cynthia to inform Justin that he was to be ready to present the work to the Callisto client by ten o'clock on Monday, but the sketch book failed to make an appearance. _Of course_. _Because I'm plucking money off trees like him, I can just afford to lose shit like that._

"Hey Sunshine, I tried calling you yesterday to confirm your shift, but your phone was switched off." Debbie interrupted his chain of thought.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Deb. My phone is on its last legs; it switches on and off at will, and the screen doesn't work sometimes either." Thinking about his phone only helped increase his blood pressure.

"Oh, did you try and get a new one? You can upgrade them or some shit like that, right?"

"Yeah, well, the people at Apple are such fucking nitwits." Justin said, as he wore his apron.

"They have such a niche demographic anyway - fucking rich hipster photographers and scarf wearing editors, and now they finally have the goddamn iPhone 4's but you have to make an appointment to do an upgrade. Of course, in their infinite wisdom, they've decided that you have to make the appointment in person, starting from nine fucking o'clock in the morning. Which is perfect for me, since I do most of my work from free trade coffee shops in the afternoon, right? Stupid fuckers. I went during my lunch break and they're sold out already. Ugh!"

Justin saw Debbie try hard not to smile, and that only incensed him further. He decided to pretend he didn't see her and continued with his rant.

"Of course, if you're willing to drop $750 on an outright purchase, they're glad to help you right away. Because they probably think I eat dollar bills while I sip my organic coffee and nibble on fucking _biscotti. _Since I'm only eligibly for an upgrade through Bell, I have to wait. Stupid _stupid _assholes. They can all go eat a bag of dicks."

Debbie was _very _wise to keep her comments to herself.


	5. Chapter 5

_Justin's POV_

In the five minutes Justin had used to take his cigarette break, the diner had filled to capacity and all hell had broken loose. Debbie was running up and down and the moment he stepped back into the diner, Justin's name was being called out from all directions, so he quickly got to work. He didn't fail to notice that the empty spot next to Michael had been filled by Brian.

As he was walking past their table with a nod to his boss, Emmett asked him for some water. So as soon as he got the order for another costumer, he moved back to their table, glass of water in hand.

"Here you go, Em. Anything else?" he asked around, his gaze pausing on Brian.

"No, that's all sweetie."

"Hard day at work?" Ted asked sympathetically, noting Justin's tired exterior.

"You could say that." Justin replied, ready to move on to place orders on other costumer's tables.

"Oh, you look exhausted!" Emmett commented. "Why don't you come to Babylon with us when your shift's over? You didn't last time." He suggested.

"He can't. His boyfriend might get jealous." Brian said before Justin had time to reply, his eyes scanning Justin quickly, before lingering on his face.

"Really? Is he the jealous type?" Emmett asked.

"Not that much." Justin answered, even though it was far from the truth. Ethan could get quite fanatical, but something about confessing that in front of Brian didn't feel right to him. "But I can't come anyway, I'm sorry. I've been on my feet all day, I could use some rest."

"Some other time then. You should definitely come."

"Don't push him. If he doesn't want to come, it's his loss." Brian said looking at the blonde challengingly, as Debbie moved around Justin to place everyone's orders on the table.

"Next time I will come…" Justin told him. "Mr Kinney." He added quickly. He wasn't sure if they were supposed to be informal at the diner, but he was not in the mood to deal with any of Brian's mind games today.

"What the hell are you Mister-Kinney-ing him for?" Debbie asked surprised. "Just call him Brian."

"It's office etiquette."

"Yeah, it's office etiquette, Deb. Courtesy, ever heard of that?" Brian asked her, tongue in cheek.

"Well, you aren't in your office, smart ass. But then again, you do have a big, _big_ age difference; maybe he _should_ call you Mister."

Emmet and Ted burst out laughing at that, Michael looking a little worried but smiling nonetheless.

Justin couldn't help but grin.

"Will I ever get to order around here?" a guy from a nearby table called out to Deb.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your dick in a twist" Debbie told him, popping her bubble-gum.

"Maybe you should keep your comments on the side with him Deb." Brian noted.

"Asshole." Deb scolded him, but somehow her hand still found its way to his head, and messed up his hair affectionately a little before moving on.

Ten minutes later, Justin was cursing himself for getting stuck with all these shifts over the weekend. He had to place orders, do refills and cover the register all at once. He could clone himself or split in two, and still he wouldn't be able to do everything in time at the diner today.

"I asked for a fucking coke." The guy who had yelled at Debbie before told him as he was passing by hurriedly, balancing four plates in his hands. "Do I have to write it down for you?"

"Right away." Justin tossed quickly behind his back.

As he moved to the guy's table, he felt a sudden tug and the next thing he knew, he was falling head first, coke spilling all over the floor, with the plates clattering down and smashing on the floor.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" A patron, the one that had pushed him by accident told Justin, helping him up, just as the guy at the table started yelling.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you blind?" the guy said, furiously wiping his sleeve, where a small amount of the cola had ended up.

Justin felt dozens of stares on his back, as the two men kept yelling at him simultaneously, one apologizing and the other getting more and more infuriated by the second. Justin felt blood rushing to his cheeks, as he tried to control the situation, brushing the apologizing customer off quickly, reassuring him that no he wasn't hurt, and yes it was ok, he could gather the broken shards on his own, and that the costumer could leave.

"What about me? Do you have any idea how much this cost?" the client from the table exclaimed, showing his outfit- of doubtful taste.

"I will get you a new coke." Justin told him as apologetically as he could, considering the fact that his hands were bleeding from landing on the broken plates and his knees were sore from the hard surface.

But the guy would have none of that. "And what about my clothes? Are you going to pay for those, or will I just get countless credit on _fries_ and _hamburgers_?"

"Jesus, Bob, give the kid a break, it wasn't his fault" someone from a nearby table commented.

"Not his fault? No, probably not. It's the manager's fault for hiring people who can't even balance a freaking tray. Tell me" he turned to Justin "are you always this incompetent, or is this a special occasion? Are you completely stupid, is that why you work at a second class diner?"

Justin did his best not to glare at the fucktard, who was bloating with anger like a muted frog. He gave Debbie a warning look before she could comment and repeated "I'll get you a refill" before moving behind the counter and grabbing another bottle.

He opened it and walked over to the guy's table with a proud strut. And before either the guy or Justin himself had time to realize, he pulled the contents over the asshole's head.

"On the house."

A round of applause ensued, Emmett in particular laughing and hoping up and down excited from his place on the couch.

Bob, realizing he wasn't especially popular with this crowd, made his way out of the diner cursing and swearing never to come back again.

"We will miss you, be sure of that!" Debbie exclaimed sarcastically, causing more laughter among the patrons.

* * *

"Shit."

Justin removed a small shard of glass from his palm, his blood spilling profusely over unwashed plates in the diner's kitchen sink in utter disregard of health regulations.

He didn't know what had gotten over him to diss that guy like that. _Well, all the accumulated anger and frustration had to come out some way, right?_

He heard the door opening behind him, and was ready to tell Deb that he was fine and he'd be back out in a few minutes, but turning around he saw that it was Brian who had entered the room.

"How are your hands?" he asked.

"Fine. I'm fine." Justin told him, clearly more aggressively than he had meant.

First Ethan, then Brian and now this. They all had him feeling like a fool, and Brian was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"Give me your hands." Brian told him, putting a first aid kit that had materialized out of nowhere down on the counter next to him.

"I'm fine I…"

Brian yanked Justin's hand without comment. Justin wanted to glare, but Brian's hands were warm and his touch soft.

"This is going to sting a bit." Brian told him, soaking some cotton in peroxide before placing it on Justin's palm to disinfect the wound.

Justin flinched a little but didn't otherwise complain.

"Brave boy." Brian said in a low tone of voice, smirking.

They stayed in silence for a while, Brian taking care of his bleeding palm.

"How did you know where the first aid kit was?" Justin asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"I've known the Novotny's since I was fourteen." He shrugged. "All in all I've spent half my life in this joint. I know every nook and cranny."

Brian put a band aid on a deep gash on Justin's right palm, and moved on to the left.

"Entertaining. That show you put on out there." He commented.

"I have no idea what came over me. I shouldn't have."

"He was an asshole. He deserved it. Besides" he looked up to Justin's face "I like you better this way. You should be like that more often."

Justin resisted the urge to pull his hands away. "Somehow I don't think you would appreciate it if I acted like that in my other job."

Brian let out a little laugh. "You're damn right I wouldn't. You would get fired in a second so don't you dare pull a stunt like that over at Vanguard." he told Justin in a hushed voice, sounding more like he was praising him than warning him. "I think it's ok now." He said, letting go of Justin's hand.

"Thanks…" Justin wanted to say or do something, really badly. Problem was, he wasn't exactly sure what that was. He felt like the most desirable thing to do was to lean in, just as close as they were right now, and capture Brian's lips in an unexpected kiss.

Instead, he opted for something safer.

"He did have a point. The guy. I mean, I'm not exactly a Wall Street investor."

"Oh don't give me any of that self-pitying shit." Brian told him.

"It's not self pity, it's just the truth."

Brian looked at him closer still, if that was even possible. "So you are not a big-shot. You work at "a second class diner" as he called it. Your job is basically shit."

"You didn't have to say all that out loud, you know."

Before Justin could look away, Brian continued. "You also have to manage two jobs, one that, if I say so myself, must be pretty fucking exhausting, considering who your boss is. That guy has probably never worked as hard in his life, so he knows squat."

Justin smiled at him, his pride at hearing these words from Brian outweighing his awkwardness. "Thanks."

"It's the truth." Brian threw Justin's words back at him. "Don't let it get to your head."

Justin smiled even wider. "I'd never do that Mr. Kinney."

Brian groaned. "Mr. Kinney, Mr. Kinney… Just call me Brian. You already use my last name like a curse word half the time."

"I don't!" Justin complained quickly.

Brian smirked, content to let Justin fidget by himself. He leaned back against the counter, and looked at Justin like he could see straight through him. Justin felt his breath catch a little bit.

"So, do you drive, or does your _boyfriend_ pick you up after work?"

"No I don't have a car. We usually just walk back together if we finish work at about the same time." Justin answered, not commenting on how Brian used the word boyfriend so mockingly.

"Usually?"

"Well yeah… I don't think he'll come pick me up tonight. We… we've been at loggerheads these last few days." Justin admitted.

"What are you fighting over? Are you cheating on him? Or he is cheating on you?"

"We aren't _fighting._ Just… every relationship has its ups and downs." Justin replied. "And no one is cheating on anyone." He added, making it perfectly clear. The way his heart had skipped a beat when Brian had said that, was not something he wanted to revisit or let the older man know about. _Are you cheating on him?_

Justin would never ever cheat on Ethan. He repeated that to himself like a mantra. Never. Not for anyone.

Not for Brian.

Unfortunately his brain had ceased diplomatic relations with the rest of his body, because Justin could feel himself react under Brian's scrutiny, moving unknowingly just an inch closer, his gaze never leaving Brian's hazel eyes.

"Well, get your stuff. We're going." Brian said out of the blue, breaking the spell.

"What? Where?"

"I'm taking you home."

"My shift isn't over yet."

"Who cares? You're fucking injured here." Brian commented, smirking. "Besides, the crowd is decreasing. Deb can handle it."

"Brian you don't have to… I live just a few blocks away. Anyway, I want to walk."

"Then we'll walk."

"But… what about Babylon?"

"Babylon can survive a night without me."

"But…" Justin searched for some other excuse, but came up with none.

"Come on we'll just walk to your apartment." Brian leaned in a little more, staring at Justin straight in the eye. "Why are you so afraid of me?"

"I'm not afraid of you." Justin told him, never tearing his gaze away.

"Great. I'm not going to take advantage of the situation, I promise. Unless you want me to."

* * *

Justin stole a glance at Brian, and quickly looked away. He was being walked home by Brian Kinney. It seemed like a high school date, and Justin was mortified to find himself blushing, instead of finding the situation merely amusing. Thanking heaven that the darkness was hiding his face, Justin turned his head just to be safe.

"You ok?"

"Yeah...I...uh, thought I saw something."

"Hmmm...You're incredibly talented Justin. I'm sure you realize that. Plus, you're dedicated. If you put half the effort into PIFA that you put into the diner, the sky would be the limit for you. I don't understand why you dropped out."

"Didn't have much of a choice…_no tengo dinero_." That just slipped out. Totally _not _trying to impress anyone with more hidden talents.

Brian laughed. "_Sí?_ So how'd you pay for the first year?"

"My dad was kind enough to foot the bill. Well, technically, he was still married so my mom so she sorta made him pay for tuition. Now they're divorced, so he doesn't need to pretend to be nice anymore."

Brian took a moment to reply. "Well, fuck him then."

"Yeah, fuck him." Justin laughed.

"So no more PIFA?"

"Not unless I wake up to find that the money tree has finally grown. Well, maybe next year, if I manage to save enough money."

Justin felt his hand starting to cramp. He winced; he knew that he had been overworking himself, and the extra shifts didn't help any. The little accident in the diner was the icing on the cake. Justin knew that if he didn't do something, his hand would start spasming very, very soon.

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and stretched it, trying his best to appear natural. _Fuck. _Still cramping. There was nothing else to do but try and massage the tension away, which he tried to do gingerly, avoiding the wounds of the evening as well as Brian's prying eyes. He wasn't very successful at either.

"Are you bleeding?" Brian's voice managed to be concerned and surprised at the same time.

"Uh…no…just cramps…it's nothing…"

Brian stopped walking, and quietly took Justin's right hand in his, slowly repeating the motion Justin was doing. Justin actually gasped at the touch, which Brian mercifully mistook for one of pain because he apologized before he continued, even slower and way softer. Justin felt his insides slowly turn to mush.

They stood that way for several minutes, and Justin was beginning to feel that he was hypnotized. Brian's hand was slowly massaging his own hand, but Brian didn't take his eyes off Justin for even a second. And Justin was mesmerized. All he could do was stand there, staring right back at Brian, the gap between them being nothing more than a foot, if that. He could smell Brian and warning lights started flashing inside his heavily compromised head.

"I think it's ok now." Justin knew that his voice was throatier than normal, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Brian held the look for a minute longer before he slowly let go of Justin's hand and continued walking. They were so close that Justin could feel the side of Brian's body brush against him as they walked. Brian had his arm casually on Justin's shoulder, and he didn't know why that made his heart beat at twice its normal pace.

It was Brian who eventually broke the silence, and his voice was devoid of its usual scorn.

"The same thing happened at work, when you were sketching…what's wrong with your hand?"

"Old war injury. It acts up when I overwork it."

"Uh-huh. How'd you hurt yourself? Did you trip while playing hopscotch?" Brian turned to Justin, smiling.

He contemplated lying for briefly, before opting for the truth. There seemed to be no reason to lie to Brian.

"Not quite. A classmate of mine – someone I was stupid enough to give a hand job to - decided that the best way to prove that he wasn't gay was by taking a baseball bat to my head. Lucky for me that he was a pretty bad shot."

"_Fucking Christ! _Justin –"

"Naah, it's ok. I'm ok with it. I mean, not ok, but whatever, right? I can't change the whole world, and all I can hope for is that he'll get what's coming to him eventually."

"Justin, he took a baseball bat to your head!"

Justin smiled briefly. "Yeah, yeah he did. But I don't really wanna think about all that right now...I suppose it could have been worse; I could have actually liked the guy. Can you imagine how much worse that would have been? Like some twisted Stockholm Syndrome!"

Brian was forced to concede the point.

"So you haven't been living on your own for too long then…how are you finding it?"

"It's ok I guess…I dunno…I feel so unprepared and unsettled in a way. Life seems so overwhelming. I think it's also not helping that things with Ethan are sort of weird right now. I miss having a sense of security that comes from knowing that you're with the right person and that that person is always there at the end of the day. Everything just seems so full of tension…having someone who is that rock for you makes such a difference. But who knows…that's probably just a very unrealistic expectation to have."

Justin didn't understand why he was saying all this. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the strange pull he felt towards Brian, but right now, he felt like he could talk to him about anything.

"Unrealistic expectations…or is that just an excuse that we use to lower our standards?"

"If I'm looking for something that no one can give me, isn't that unrealistic?"

Justin stopped walking when he realized that they were outside his building, and his movement brought Brian to a halt. Brian didn't remove his arm from Justin's shoulder, but turned around to face Justin, closing the gap between them even further. They were so close that Justin could feel Brian's breath on his face.

"It might be that you haven't looked hard enough." Brian's voice was low, and Justin's eyes locked with Brian's. They were speaking in a language all their own.

"We're here."

"I know."

Brian moved his head downwards, and Justin leaned forward, meeting him half way. Their lips met, and all capacity for thought left Justin. In his entire life, he had never been kissed like that before. When Brian's tongue met his, fire seared through his body.

The kiss was deep and hot and frantic, and he felt Brian's hands grip the back of his neck, even as his own hands found their way around Brian's back. He could feel that Brian was as hard and aroused as he was, and without breaking the kiss, they tumbled against the building door, which easily opened under their combined weight. Falling backwards, the kiss was finally broken, though Justin was saved from falling flat on his back due to Brian's arms being around him.

But that near-fall did more than break the kiss; it jostled Justin back into reality.

_Ethan. Fuck. He was standing in the lobby of Ethan's building, kissing Brian Kinney as if his entire life depended in it. FUCK. What was he _ _thinking?_

"I…I'm sorry…it…I…that…should never have happened. I'm sorry.'

Justin turned around and practically ran up the stairs, too scared and ashamed to turn and look at Brian.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Happy New Year to all our readers! We hope that you had a fabulous holiday season.

It's been a while since we updated this story, and so we present a mammoth chapter for your reading pleasure. Enjoy! :)

* * *

_Justin's POV_

He heard the door opening. Ethan made his way into the house, getting out of his coat and leaving the violin case carefully in its place, he walked over to the kitchen to get a glass of water, without acknowledging Justin's presence.

"Ethan." He called out from his place on the sofa. "How did you do today? Any luck?"

"Not much." Ethan responded, coming closer. "But I guess working on the street cannot possibly be as profitable as working for a big company." Justin noticed his subtly scathing tone and the hurt in his eyes.

"It can be much more pleasant though." He replied, choosing not to comment on how late it was or on the fact that Ethan had not come by the diner so that they could walk back to the apartment together. "Come here."

Ethan sat next to him, and Justin kissed him lightly on the lips. "One day, all your work will be rewarded. You'll see."

The love that had once united them was there no more - he couldn't not admit that. In its place it had left merely a bond that was just loyalty; the mutual understanding that they had chosen to be there for each other, regardless of all the fights and arguments.

Ethan was not perfect- but who was? Certainly not Justin himself, and even less so was Brian Kinney, however perfect he might appear to be to the untrained eye. Justin was no fool; he'd kept his ears and his eyes open. He knew Brian was unattainable and untamed like the wind. If Justin gave in, what would happen then? Brian would be bored with him in…weeks, days…possibly even hours?

And even though he knew that there was more passion in that moment he had kissed Brian than he could ever feel kissing Ethan - probably more passion than he had ever felt with Ethan - Justin was grateful to have the comfort of someone that wanted to be with him and only him; someone he could trust, that would come home at the end of the day and with no need for explanation would still lean into him to watch a boring movie on the old television set, putting aside whatever differences had emerged between them at the course of the day.

So he dug himself deeper into Ethan's arms and tried not to think of Brian Kinney at all. He wouldn't betray that trust, no matter how just a single look by those hazel eyes made him feel.

* * *

_Brian's POV_

The woman's voice was so annoying. It trickled through his poor abused ears into his unwilling brain and made him want to use the pen that was twirling between his fingers to commit suicide. She had that self-assured air about her that only the totally worthless but equally oblivious ever acquired.

Brian stole a glance at his watch. The meeting would be over soon. The presentation had gone a lot better than expected, considering he had little to do with it this time. Taylor had delivered, and he had done so beautifully. The client had loved the "improved" campaign, even though the only things that had changed were the coloring and the font. Brian gave her a tight lipped smile. For all her knowledge on art and her supposed exceptional aesthetic taste, she had failed to notice that there was only one big change: the one from blue to orange. Then again, the untrained eye was probably the best critic, since it would be the public that judged the campaign.

Orange. What the hell had Justin been thinking? When he had walked into the office, boards in hand, eyes downcast, having done nothing more than play a bit with his palette, Brian had thought that he just wanted to get fired. That maybe he really was shitting his pants about what had happened, unable to come to terms with kissing Brian and cheating, in a way, on his _poor innocent perfect boyfriend_, that he had just decided to do a crappy job and get fired.

Well, whether it was sheer luck or pure genius, the client had loved Justin's work- at least till next week when she'd probably come up with yet another reason not to be satisfied. There would be no firing today.

Brian was glad. He was starting to enjoy having Justin around.

He made it a point to let the client know that the intern had contributed greatly to the campaign, just to check Justin's reaction more than anything else. The blonde had been avoiding him all day, had barely looked up at him and had not spoken a word. When Brian had acknowledged his work, he had finally turned his head Brian's way, staring in surprise for only a few seconds. Brian was reminded of the night where Justin had clearly stated he did not want to have anything to do with Brian, and he didn't like the reminder one bit.

As the meeting came to an end, Justin, who had been the one putting up the boards, was the first to bolt through the door. Brian watched him leave from the corner of his eye, as he took his time to button up his coat. He would be leaving Vanguard and he knew that Justin would be too. He could just catch up to him and…no, there was no need to hurry. There was no need to run after an inexperienced kid whom he could have wrapped around his finger in the blink of an eye. Brian finished buttoning the coat and started gathering the paperwork, putting it all in a neat stack. There really was no need and no reason to even bother wondering what Justin's deal was. He shouldn't try to guess what the fuck was going on inside his blonde little head. He could hear the footsteps getting farther and farther away. But there was no reason to worry about that. None at all.

Brian gritted his teeth.

He grabbed his briefcase and completely ignoring Vance, made his way out the door. His long strides enabled him to quickly catch up with Justin, and not look like he was hurrying or anything. Not that he was. As _if_.

"What's the rush?" He put a hand on the younger man's back, only to have Justin look at him alarmed.

"No rush. Ethan will be here soon so we can walk home, that's all." Brian didn't fail to notice the emphasis on the word home, or the small sideways glances Justin kept throwing around, as if reluctant to be seen even walking along side him.

Brian removed his hand, but kept walking steadily next to the other man. "So what will happen if you're late?"

Justin shrugged and kept on walking.

"You know last night…" he started but he was interrupted before he could finish.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You left like someone had lit a fire under your ass. Right after we kissed."

Justin looked around once again, wide eyed, checking if anyone had heard. "Last night will not be repeated. Ever. I have a boyfriend and no interest in you whatsoever, so please don't bring it up again. Now, excuse me but I have to go." He looked a bit bewildered at Brian and added quickly "Mr. Kinney."

So the polite approach doesn't work. Change of plans.

"I wonder why he's so worried about you staying alone for five freaking minutes." Brian asked, as if he didn't hear the last part. He pretended to think about it as he pushed open the doors of Vanguard. "Is he _very_ unattractive?"

"No he is not." Justin glared at him.

"Stupid, then? He's got to be stupid. I bet he's a hillbilly with no taste and an IQ lower than Bush."

"_Ethan _is a very intelligent person with excellent taste. He plays the violin."

"Oooh, he's boring then! Why didn't you say so from the beginning?"

"He is not boring!" Justin came to a halt outside the building, glaring up at Brian, but not daring to yell at him, probably not having forgotten that the man was still his boss. "Just because you consider the ear-splitting, mind-numbing thumpa thumpa, and what I guess are the moans of your numerous tricks to be music, that does not deem actual music boring."

Way to go, tiger. "You know, you're getting pretty worked up over something a guy you have no interest in just said to you." He commented casually.

"What is this, psychology 101?"

Brian noticed that the other man, despite his fuming exterior, made no move to leave any longer, but kept staring at him right in the eye, trying to pass off his lust-filled expression as anger. Too bad Brian knew a thing or two about lust.

"Does he have a really teeny tiny dick?" he said, indicating with his forefinger and thumb.

Justin snorted. "That is so low, Brian."

Brian leaned back against the wall behind him, and watched with amusement as Justin's eyes followed his every movement, watched the younger man's body instinctively adjusting ever so slightly to have them perfectly aligned with each other, like a snake following the sound of the flute. Not interested. Yeah, _right_.

"You don't want to go back home. You want to stay here. Because being here with me is far more interesting than anything you could be doing back there with him." He put a hand out, touching the collar of Justin's coat to pull him just a bit closer, putting enough pressure to guide but not lead. But Justin leaned closer nonetheless. "And because I want you to stay here, too."

"I really have got to go…" Justin made one last meager attempt.

Brian let go of his coat, ceasing all physical contact and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Justin did not move an inch.

He registered the sound of someone coughing in the background, but nothing would have been able to make him tear his eyes away right now. Unfortunately, Justin broke the connection, and turned to acknowledge the sound, becoming considerably paler as he did.

"Ethan…"

Brian pushed himself off from the wall and walked closer to the newcomer. "You're Ethan? Brian Kinney." He extended his hand and Ethan shook it quickly and with no conviction, keeping his gaze on Justin.

A handshake always reveals a lot about a person. And the weak one Ethan offered him just now told Brian he was dealing with an imaginative, boring, uninteresting, greasy snob. Who was horrible in bed. And obviously had an annoying voice, even though he had yet to speak.

"Justin, are you coming?" Ethan asked, not paying any more attention to Brian.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Goodbye Mr. Kinney." Justin walked past him and started leading boyfriend-of-the-year by the invisible leash that apparently connected them.

"See you tomorrow, Sunshine."

* * *

_Justin's POV_

The walk back home had never been this unpleasant. Justin felt his mind racing with blinding speed, taking twists and turns with little respect toward logical thought. Ethan couldn't have heard anything. The distance between them couldn't have allowed it. And how long had he been standing there? What did he see? What _could _he have seen? Justin had no idea how visible the palpable need to kiss Brian he had experienced in those few brief seconds had been.

They made it inside the apartment before Ethan finally spoke. "Have you fucked him?"

"What?" Justin exclaimed. He was genuinely shocked, never having expected that to be the first thing to come out of Ethan's mouth.

"Doesn't matter…" Ethan went on, his tone calm but his expression and body movements being evidence of his inner turmoil. "It all makes sense now…everything…that's why you put so much effort into this job!"

"Ethan, I don't understand what you're saying. Could you…"

"It's why you kept the job, why you were the first one to leave in the morning, all those late nights at the dinner…you were going to see him."

"That is ridiculous! You know I was working…" Ethan didn't seem to believe him at all, and kept looking somewhere beyond Justin, beyond the apartment and the here and now. "Ethan. I swear, I was just working at the dinner, there were no secret rendezvous or anything like that."

"You were working for the campaigns at Vanguard. To please _him_. To make _him_ proud."

Justin didn't find anything to say to that… how could he?

"He _is_ very beautiful…" Ethan whispered, talking more to himself than to Justin.

Justin looked at him, trying to come up with something to say, all the while being drowned in guilt. He searched through it, needing to find some other emotion. There had to be more than guilt right?

"There is nothing between him and me." He wanted to say he didn't feel anything toward Brian and that he didn't want anything to do with him, but he couldn't. "I would never do anything to risk _us_, you know that…"

"Then quit."

"What?" He stopped, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Quit Vanguard."

* * *

_At Vanguard, the next day_

_Brian's POV_

It was better than looking in the mirror. The expression on his face, the details…Brian stared at the sketch that Justin had done. Was this how other people saw him? Was this how Justin saw him?

Not interested? You can't take your eyes off me when we're together, and when we aren't, this is what you do. So why do you keep running back to that greasy little weasel? _And why do I keep running after you? _

Brian shook his head. Just one fuck, he told himself. All he needed was just one fuck and then the blonde would be out of system. That's all he needed…

"His drawings are incredible, aren't they?"

Brian looked up, surprised. He hadn't even noticed Cynthia entering the room.

"They're all right."

Cynthia scoffed. "Get off it, Brian. Justin's not here. You can compliment his work without denting your reputation." A cold glare from Brian was her only answer. "I was cleaning your desk and I saw that one. He's captured you perfectly."

Cynthia didn't realize the irony of her words.

"It would seem that way."

Brian closed the sketch book and casually tossed it aside, instantly regretting it when Cynthia picked it up.

"How did you get this, anyway? Do you want me to return it to Justin? Or I could –"

"Leave it." Brian avoided acknowledging the raised eyebrows. "I'll return it when it's time."

"Uh-huh." Cynthia made no attempt to leave, and instead, deposited herself on the small couch that was there. "How come you haven't slept with him yet?"

"Who says I haven't?"

"If you had, you wouldn't be obsessing about him now."

"Cynthia, when have you known me to obsess about anyone? And is there something in particular that brought you in here?"

Ignoring questions she didn't want to answer seemed to be Cynthia's specialty, because she acted as if Brian asked only one thing.

"There's a first time for everything, as I'm beginning to find out."

"Even when I was in high school, such teenage activities mercifully escaped me. Don't think that I'm about to start now."

"Right. Of course. Could it be that the young Mr. Taylor's boyfriend is a bigger obstacle than expected?" Cynthia was twirling something – a pen, maybe? or a ring? – between her fingers, and wasn't looking at him.

Brian sighed, and tried very hard not to take the bait. He _tried_.

"And you know that he has a boyfriend how…?"

"I asked Justin. I saw that guy come to pick him up a couple of days." Cynthia paused, and seemed to contemplate something before she spoke next. "This _should_ be a piece of cake …that he's got nothing on you."

"Cynthia, you might be trapped inside High School Musical, but I'm not. If there's a point to this conversation, feel free to get to it."

Cynthia sighed. "For a high flying executive, you're being quite dense about this, aren't you? All I'm saying is…if Justin hasn't succumbed to your charms yet, why do you suppose that is? If Gucci was having free giveaways, why would I continue to shop at Liz Claiborne's? I'm just saying…lateral thinking, Brian."

* * *

_The diner, later in the evening_

_Brian's POV_

Cynthia had annoyed the crap out of Brian, and the fact that Justin had managed to avoid him the entire day didn't help improve the situation any. What the fuck was his problem, anyway? It wasn't as if Brian was going to eat him alive.

He spotted the blonde in no time. Thinking was _not _the lateral activity that came to mind. Against his better judgment, Brian made his way to the counter.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite artist. How are we doing this fine evening?" Brian drawled.

Justin sighed deeply as he turned to serve Brian, and the older man frowned as he noticed the dark circles around Justin's eyes.

"What can I get you, Brian? Coffee to go?"

"I'll have a coffee and a whole –"

"Whole-wheat turkey sandwich with no mayo? To go?"

My, aren't we curt today.

"And a side of your charming company. I'll be dining in, by the way." He seated himself at the counter, prompting another sigh.

Justin turned around and gave the order to the kitchen, and busied himself with fiddling with the coffee maker, his back to Brian.

"Aw, come on Picasso. How about you make some conversation? Where's your sense of customer service?"

It took Justin almost an entire minute to turn around and face Brian. "Why would you want to talk to me Brian? You don't even like me."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you're hungry. You're talking to me because you think I'll eventually melt like a tub of butter and let you fuck me and then you can just thr-" Justin seemed to have a change of heart as he stopped midsentence. "You don't even respect me, let alone like me."

That genuinely surprised Brian. "That's bullshit."

"Is it? Is that why you expect me to fail every time I work on something for you? I've been saving your ass from the very first day I started working at fucking Vanguard, and you still expect me to fall flat on my face each time I hand something in. That's some shit ass respect, Brian. Wow. Awesome. I'm _so_ touched."

He left to serve another customer, muttering under his breath. Justin acted so self assured and high and mighty most of the time that Brian was surprised to find out that he actually wanted Brian's respect and good opinion.

When Justin finally returned to man his post at the counter, Brian spoke to him again.

"Justin, I _do _respect your –"

"What_ever, _Brian. You don't have to try and play nice now to assuage my poor hurt feelings. Here's your order"

Well, someone was clearly feeling prickly. Brian decided to try another tactic.

"So, what did the _boyfriend_ have to say about your boss? Does he like me?" Brian asked in an exaggerated whisper.

"He thinks you're beautiful."

"And you?"

"I think you're an idiot."

Brian laughed, and that managed to draw a hint of a smile out of Justin.

"So you both like me then? Maybe we can have a ménage à trois, though I don't particularly find Ian attractive."

Justin scoffed. "You wish. Neither of us likes you."

Brian smirked. Keep looking at me with those undress-me-eyes Sunshine, and we'll see about that.

"He thinks I'm beautiful. I can work with that." Brian leaned forward, and it wasn't without some amusement that he noted Justin move towards him unconsciously. "Did he get all hot and bothered that you have a gorgeous boss? But then, you said that he isn't the jealous type…I'm curious to know how that particular conversation between the two of you would have gone."

"Not that it's any of your fucking business, but _Ethan _thinks I should quit Vanguard. Which ironically enough, has been your anthem since I joined the company. Maybe I _should _hook the two of you up."

"_What?"_

"What?" Justin frowned at him. "Weren't you the one talking about a ménage à trois?"

Trust Justin to bark up the wrong tree.

"_Quitting_. Ian wants you to quit?"

"Uh-huh. Do you need more coffee?"

Brian impatiently pushed his cup forward. "And? Are you going to quit?"

Justin shrugged as he turned to get more coffee.

"So you're going to quit? Just like that?"

"Did I say that?" The world-weary eyes were back.

"Oh, I don't know. The art of translating the exact meaning of shrugs accurately is something I haven't perfected yet. Are. You. Going. To. Quit."

"I didn't say that."

"But you're thinking about it, aren't you?" What a fucking dick Justin had for a boyfriend. For about the millionth time, Brian wondered what the blonde saw in that fellow.

"I didn't say that either. But what are you getting so worked up about? You've been wanting me to get fired, like, forever."

"Let's get something straight. I didn't _want _you to get fired, I_ expected_ you to get fired. Because I hadn't seen what you were capable of doing. And of course, because I want to fuck you. But that's really beside the point, isn't it?

Less than half an hour ago, you were chewing me out for not respecting your talent. I dunno Sunshine…you _know _that you're talented. You could even be doing Steve's job. You know it, I know it and Steve probably knows it. But you're going to throw that away because you'd rather placate the feelings of some two-bit jealous boyfriend?"

Justin flushed. "Look, I didn't say that I was considering it, ok?"

This time, it was Brian who scoffed. "But it's been eating away at you, hasn't it? Besides, I thought going to PIFA was your dream; that this job was a money making venture to fund your education. What happened to that? Planning to sacrifice that at the Altar of Insecurity as well?"

Justin averted his eyes and pretended to busy himself with rearranging the cutlery. "I shouldn't have told you about this. You're blowing it way out of proportion."

"Of _course_ I am. Keep the change." Brian pulled out a twenty dollar bill and placed it on the counter. He reached out and held Justin's chin, forcing the blonde to look up at him. "I _do_ respect you. I hope you won't disappoint me."

* * *

_Justin's POV_

Justin was walking home, enjoying the peace and quiet that the midnight hour gave him. He smiled to himself. It was more like the way-past-midnight hour. He tried to concentrate on the stars above him, but his thoughts kept going back to the one topic he didn't want to think about.

What was it about Brian Kinney that got under his skin like this? Each time he had left Brian at the counter, he felt himself being drawn right back, as if he was being pulled by an invisible magnetic field.

He hadn't meant to be so rude and churlish with Brian. But he was exhausted. He had spent the better part of yesterday arguing over Ethan's ridiculous demand that he quit Vanguard. Justin had taken it for a joke at first, but as the argument had spiraled out of hand, he had realized that Ethan was dead serious about it. It had turned into an issue about how Justin could prove that there was nothing between himself and Brian, and a testament to his love for Ethan.

If only Ethan knew how absurd the whole situation was. First off, there was no way he could prove that there was nothing between himself and Brian, because there was. Only Brian didn't know about it. And he never would, if Justin had anything to say about it.

Second off, it was patently obvious to Justin that whatever love he and Ethan had shared had fizzled out sometime ago. But he wasn't willing to let go of the familiarity and companionship and togetherness that being with Ethan represented to him.

But he wasn't willing to sacrifice his dream for a man he didn't even love. Listening to Brian's little lecture had convinced him of that even more.

_Don't worry, Brian. There's nothing to be disappointed about. I'm going to deal with this just like I've dealt with everything else._

Of course, that would mean endless arguments with Ethan, but Justin was determined not to back down. I'm going to call Ethan's bluff, he told himself. No fucking way that I'm going to give up my dream or sacrifice it at the A_ltar of Insecurity, _he thought with a smile.

As he came in front of his decrepit building, Justin dug his hand into his jeans pocket, looking for his key. Then the other pocket. And then his jacket pockets. And then he rummaged through his messenger bag. And then he repeated the process three more times, just to be sure.

"_Fuck!" _Justin couldn't believe that he had forgotten his keys at home. Now how the hell was he supposed to get into the building? He pitched his weight against the entrance, hoping to force it open, but the door wouldn't budge. That's when Justin noticed the shining, brand new hinges. Just my luck that they decided to repair the goddamn door.

He knew that he would get an earful from the sleeping Ethan, but he pulled out his phone to call and ask to be let in. Except that his phone seemed as dead as a door nail, in spite of him having charged it before he left for the diner.

"Goddamn piece of shit!" Justin cursed the phone. "I could carry around a piece of brick and it would be more useful! Stupid fucking Apple and their stupid fucking –"

"Talking to inanimate objects could be a sign of mental illness Sunshine, especially if you can hear them talk back to you."

Justin jumped at the sound of Brian's voice, and successfully banged his head on the door. "_Fuck!_ Brian, you scared the living daylights out of me! What are you doing here?"

"I was listening to some music. Around the corner."

Justin stared at Brian incredulously. "What?"

"Music. You know, the moans of one of my numerous tricks. In other words, music. Or should I say, in _your_ words. "

Justin fought the urge to hit Brian and wipe the smug smirk off his face. He took in a deep breath. "In _this_ neighbourhood? Really?"

Brian leaned lazily against the hood of his car. "Ok, so you caught me. I was stalking you. Happy now?"

Justin had a strong urge to pull Brian's pants down and give him the blowjob of a lifetime, just to force him to make some music of his own. However, he chose to clench and unclench his fists instead.

"Brian, it's really late, and I'm really tired and I _really _am not in the mood to play your mind games."

"Great. So why don't you go inside and get yourself a solid four hours of rest?"

Justin looked down and shuffled his feet, mumbling. This was _sooooo _embarrassing.

Brian frowned. "What did you say?"

Justin sighed. "I _said_, I can't go inside because I forgot my key."

Brian started to laugh, but stopped when Justin glowered at him. "Is that why you were talking to your phone? Battery's dead and you can't call Ian?"

"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with my phone. It belongs at the bottom of a river somewhere. The damn screen doesn't work…it has a mind of its own, it seems. Stupid piece of junk." Justin hit the phone against the door, hoping to kick start some life into it.

"Ok there, Rambo. Calm down. Here, use my phone and call Ian."

Justin stared at Brian's outstretched arm, holding his phone, and his face turned beet red.

"I can't."

"What, is your poor boyfriend going to throw a hissy fit because you'll call from my phone?" Brian was shaking his head.

"Don't be silly Brian. It's just…" Justin hung his head. Brian was going to love this. "I can't call him because I can't remember his number. I mean, it's on my phone, and that's how I call him but I haven't got it memorized and now my phone is shot and…" He broke off when Brian started guffawing.

"Aw, you really are a piece of work!"

Justin tried to glare at Brian, but failed. When Brian Kinney laughed, it was like…_no! _Don't go there, he told himself.

"Come on. Get in." Brian nodded his head towards the passenger door.

"What? Get in and go where? I live _here_, Brian."

"Yes, and short of breaking down two sets of doors, you're doomed to spend the rest of the night on the street. I'll take you to my place. Beats sleeping on the street any day."

"Are you crazy? _Me? _Sleep over at _your_ place? No fucking way." Justin could only imagine where an arrangement like that would lead. He could barely stand to be ten feet away from Brian and keep his hands off the other man.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Jesus. You can sleep on the couch. Still beats the street. Now will you get the fuck inside the car?"

Justin shook his head. He didn't trust Brian, and he trusted himself even less. Ethan didn't even factor into the equation.

"No. I'm staying right here. Someone might come by and open the door…"

Brian scowled at him. "You're such a fucking princess. You seriously expect anybody to come by at this time of the night? Who won't be interested in mugging you? In _this_ neighbourood?" He mimicked Justin. "Will you just get in the car? Now?"

Justin was determined to stand his ground, though the idea of Brian's couch was enough to make him salivate. "No. I told you. I'm staying right here."

Brian stared at him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Fine. Let me know how sleeping on the street works out for you. Unless you get yourself killed first. Or freeze to death."

Without a backward glance, Brian got inside his car and left.

Justin sighed as he leaned against the wall and slid down, hugging himself. It _was _cold. He knew he was being as stubborn as a mule, but he couldn't help it. Being alone with Brian, at his place, given the way Justin was feeling, was a surefire recipe for disaster. Besides, he was certain that Brian must have seen this as the perfect opportunity to corner him and fuck him into oblivion, and then after that, Justin would be discarded like a used Kleenex.

Justin stared at the street. Did Brian really have to leave though? It would have been nice to have some company, even if it would have been only for half an hour or so. And he had to admit to himself that even when he was arguing with Brian, he felt alive, the way he felt he was painting or sketching or…_stop. _Look for a distraction. He dug around once more in his messenger bag, and came up with a Granola bar. Well, it was _something_.

After he devoured the Granola bar, Justin decided to sketch. What else could he do in the middle of the night, camped outside on the street, with absolutely nothing else on him? He shivered involuntarily, wondering how much time had passed since he had left the diner. Would Ethan wake up in the middle of the night and wonder where Justin was? Maybe he'd come looking for Justin? Maybe –

The sound of a car pulling up disturbed his chain of thoughts, and he gaped as a frowning Brian got out of the corvette, carrying two cups of coffee from Starbucks.

"I thought I'd still find you here. I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that no one came by to let you in." Brian looked down at the Granola wrapper. "Hungry?"

"A bit. Thank you." Justin gratefully took the cup of coffee that Brian offered, and was disappointed when Brian turned around and walked to his car. Did he come by just to give a coffee?

His disappointment turned into surprise as Brian walked back to him, carrying his own cup of coffee in one hand, some sort of cloth in the other and a duffel bag over his shoulder.

"Ok, I'm going to ask you one last time. Do you want to come and sleep over at my place? Or at least inside my car? Which is parked right there?"

Justin held the warm cup close to his body and shook his head. Enclosed spaces at this time of the night seemed to be a bad idea.

"Brian, what are you doing here?"

"Leaving my star intern to brave the forces of nature on his own didn't make good business sense. Besides, I don't want to have to give statements to the police when they find your frozen body here in the morning. Or beaten black and blue and lying twenty feet away, wrapped in a garbage bag."

"Uh…thank you?" Justin couldn't believe that Brian was here. Why is it that as soon as I convince myself that he's nothing but a heartless bastard, he does something to prove otherwise?

Brian handed something to him. "Here. Cover yourself before you turn blue."

Justin realized that what he had assumed was a cloth was in fact a blanket. He took it gratefully, wrapping himself against the wind. With far more grace than Justin could muster, Brian put his own cup of coffee on the ground, kept the bag next to it, and then wrapped himself in the second blanket before sitting down next to Justin.

"You are one stupid, stubborn, annoying little twat. I hope you know that."

"Uh-huh. And this stupid, stubborn, annoying little twat says thank you and that he's very sorry for inconveniencing you."

"He better be. Has the coffee and Granola bar satiated your hunger? Or is that ogre inside your stomach looking for more food?"

Justin tried the wide-eyed innocent look. "Only if that bag of goodies has anything edible."

"Well, three o'clock in the morning is not the ideal time to hunt for gourmet catering, but I'm nothing if not resourceful. Here you go."

Justin grinned as he took the sandwich from Starbucks as well as a bag of chips. "What else is in there?"

Brian laughed. "You want more? There's another sandwich, a cookie and water. And a light sweater."

"I'm ok for now. Thanks. Actually, can I have the sweater as well?" The sweater turned out to be at least two sizes too big for Justin, and it was unmistakably one of Brian's own.

Justin was almost halfway through his sandwich when he noticed that Brian wasn't eating. "You're not having anything?"

"At this time? I'm not as crazy as you."

"Whatever. You can't afford to eat because you'll have to clock time at the gym, that's all."

"Awfully cocky aren't you, for a guy who forgot his keys and is sleeping out on the street? Food and shelter – so to speak – are being provided by me, so how about you attempt to play nice, difficult as that concept is for you?"

Justin giggled. "I'll try my best." Before he could think or stop himself, he had turned and planted a kiss on Brian's cheek.

_Fuck. _You stupid retard, Justin scolded himself as he looked away, shifting his position. This is exactly the kind of behavior –

He felt Brian's arm snake around his shoulders and pull him in closer. "You're such a fucking drama queen. Anybody ever tell you that?"

"Just my friend Daphne. And Kathy. And my mom. And Kiki. I guess that's quite a bit of anybodies." Being close to Brian felt good. Really _really_ good.

Brian laughed quietly. "I guess I've been warned then."

Justin suddenly remembered that Brian smoked. His own pack of smokes was back at Vanguard because Ethan would complain if he came home from the diner smelling of smoke, and there was no point in carrying cigarettes if you couldn't smoke them.

"Uh, Brian? You wouldn't happen to have a smoke on you, would you?"

"Demanding, aren't we?"

Justin lightly poked Brian in the ribs. At least, he assumed that it was Brian's ribs. "Hey, I asked nicely!"

"Oooh, playing it rough…kinky." Brian leered at him, but Justin could see the humour in his eyes.

"You have _such _a one-track mind. Please and thank you?"

"Hmm…let's up the ante, shall we?

Justin looked curiously at Brian as he reached into his jacket, and pulled out two joints.

"Ready to play, Sunshine?"

He couldn't help but beam. Even better than a cigarette was a joint – also an item banned by Ethan.

Justin was tired as it was, and the joint helped him relax, giving him a nice, buzzed feeling. He was finally able to converse with Brian without snapping the other man's head off. It really wasn't Brian's fault if he was irresistible and Justin had zero self control, was it?

"Earth to Justin…where'd you go?"

Justin realized that he had missed whatever it was that Brian had been saying. "Sorry, just blanked out there for a bit…listen, Brian, I appreciate you being here with me…and I'm sorry I was such a prick earlier today."

"I'll put it down to you being a drama queen. Keep it up and we're going to have to promote you to drama empress though. We'll get you a nice tiara to go with – _ow!_"

This time Justin was pretty certain that he got Brian in the ribs. "You were saying something?"

"Stupid twat." Brian muttered. "Physical assault. This is the thanks I get for providing food, shelter and recreational drugs. So much for being a good Samaritan."

"And you call _me_ a drama queen. Poor widdle Brian. Ok, tell you what, as payment for you being a nice guy, I'll draw something for you. Right now. And twenty years from now, when it's worth a million dollars, you can sell it off and retire and move to Palm Springs. "

"And I can sell the story of how you sat on the street drawing it to _People_ magazine. Fabulous."

Justin giggled as he started to draw, keeping up a steady stream of conversation. He was buzzed, but not so high that he couldn't draw a decent picture. He started sketching the street lamp he saw in the distance, placing Brian underneath it, part of him in the shadows.

He felt Brian rest his head on Justin's shoulder, and he assumed that it was to get a better view of the drawing. What was this strange emotion he was feeling, having Brian so close to him? It was just physical attraction, right? He couldn't possibly be falling for the guy…?

"Think you can draw your own picture if you watch me long enough?" Justin spoke to Brian, hoping to distract himself from unwelcome thoughts.

When all he heard was steady breathing, Justin slowly turned his head to look at the other man.

Brian was fast asleep, head resting on Justin's shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**A/N: **A sincere apology for the delay. Especially to tellytellz, hopefully we haven't lost you.

_Brian's POV_

Brian rubbed at his eyes, chasing sleep away. There was something fundamentally wrong with being awakened by the sun this early in the morning, with your ass cold from the icy sidewalk and your back hurting like a motherfucker.

Not to mention… boho-chic…? Not his thing.

But it wasn't only this firsthand experience of the less than fabulous beggar lifestyle that ticked him off, it was the fact that waking up, _cuddling _someone- _even if it was only for warmth and nothing else_- was completely contradictory to his belief system. When you started cuddling, then came the expectations, and eating in bed and calling each other, heaven forbid, honey and booboo and muffin or whatever the fuck other sickly pet name more suitable for a hamster or the dinner table.

All in all, waking up next to anyone was a real come down from even the most life affirming fuck fest. No one looked as hot in the morning. You were both a drooling, sweaty mess, with morning breath and full bladders.

With these thoughts in mind, he got out of Justin's embrace quickly. The blond let out a disgruntled noise at the changing of positions and quickly used Brian's shoulder to get comfortable again, claiming Brian's hand for his own. Brian could shake him awake, he really could, but something in Justin's too-innocent-to-be-true expression - radically different from his awake self- just begged to be messed with. So, in an uncharacteristically childish manner, Brian opted for slowly blowing air in his ear and at his neck and watch as Justin squirmed his way into consciousness. Brian suppressed a laugh. Justin looked bewildered for a second or two, until his gaze settled on Brian and he finally smiled sweetly and said "Good morning."

Brian smiled in spite of himself. Maybe waking up next to a certain Justin Taylor wasn't that bad.

"What time is it?"

"Too early, or too late, depending on your perspective" Brian's watch informed him.

Justin stretched his hands above his head. "Well, it's a good thing I require minimum amounts of sleep lately. Also, you make a very comfortable human pillow."

And there, the twat had to go and make him smile again. "At your service. Anything else you'd like? Food or… a song, or a backrub maybe?"

"Now that you mention it, a backrub would be nice right about now." Justin said, keeping a perfectly straight face.

"And here I thought you should be sucking up to me, not the other way around."

"Well, everyone rushes to assumptions from time to time." Justin replied, a smile forming at the corner of his lips, threatening his façade.

Brian's response was interrupted as the building door opened behind them. Justin's neighbor greeted him, in obvious confusion, and left to go to work, leaving Justin holding the door open.

"So… um…"

"I should be going." Brian said quickly, getting up and gathering the blanket and all the other salvageable items. Something told him that if the next person to come down the stairs was Ian, things wouldn't turn out too well.

"Yeah…" Justin was standing indecisively, keeping a hand on the door to keep it from closing. "Oh wait. Your sweater."

"Keep it."

"No, no. Just hold the door a bit and I'll give it to you."

Brian did just that, and the blonde pulled the sweater over his head and handed it to him.

"Thanks for… everything."

"Sure." He dismissed it quickly.

"No, really, thanks. I think your presence had a lot to do with me not getting mugged or anything."

Brian nodded. "How is your boyfriend going to take it?"

"Probably not well." Justin answered awkwardly.

"Hmm… So, will you be at the office later, or should I expect resignation papers?"

Justin looked at him closely, silent for a while. "I'll be there."

_Justin's POV_

Banging against the door proved, once again, futile. He must have been waiting for over ten minutes outside the apartment door; Justin was sure of it. It couldn't be that Ethan was still sleeping at this hour; he always woke up early… Maybe he wasn't inside. But where could he possibly be? What if… what if something was wrong with him? If he had passed out or…

Justin ran anxious fingers through his hair. _One thing at a time. Go to Aaron's across the hall. Use his phone to call a locksmith. Get in the apartment and…_

"Justin?"

"Ethan!" he breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him walking up the stairs. "What…"

"Let's get inside first." he indicated to the door, and opened it using his keys. "What were you doing out there?"

"I forgot my keys."

"Your phone?" Ethan asked absentmindedly. He put down the violin case and got out of his coat slowly.

"Dead. You… you just came back?" Justin's freshly awakened mind had a bit of a problem understanding that particular concept. Ethan shrugged. "And where were you?"

"Out."

"Out? Ok…"

"I got tired of waiting, so, I went for a walk." Ethan said, moving to the kitchen.

It took a few minutes for that to sink in as well, but Justin was sure it didn't have to do with having just woken up. "You went for a walk… when? Now?"

"Couple hours ago."

"Why are you lying?"

"Lying? I'm not…"

"I was outside the building all night. I would have seen you if you went for _a walk a couple hours ago."_

"You spent all night in the cold? Why didn't you go to Daphne's?"

"That's not…" He sighed. This was going nowhere. "Ethan, where were you?"

"Fine. I was out all night. It's not like you would've noticed, you were out too."

"_Not_ by choice." He looked at Ethan for a while longer, confused. "I don't understand why you feel the need to lie."

"I just didn't want to fight first thing in the morning, that's all."

God, that's what they had become? One of _those_ couples…"Are you going to tell me where you were?"

"Jesus… I was just… _out_. I needed a few hours to myself. What about you?"

"I was with Brian Kinney."

"_What?_"

"He kept me company." Justin knew he was being annoying, but hell, he was enjoying it. "Nothing special, we just talked."

"Talked? Yeah, I'm sure that's all you did."

"It **is** all we did. I don't know what _you _were doing though."

Ethan looked around the small kitchen, coming to a decision. "You are quitting."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You are quitting, Justin. You can't go back to Vanguard. He obviously wants you."

"And what if he does? You have to trust _me_, not him."

"If you weren't interested as well, you would quit. Why else would you want to continue working there?"

"Because it's a great opportunity? Because I need the job?"

Ethan scoffed. "If you don't quit…" he hesitated.

"If I don't quit what? You're going to break up with me over it?"

"You are always late, you're always busy," Ethan started accusing, his voice rising "and now this? There is no way he hasn't tried _something_."

"You're right." Justin breathed in deeply. No reason to hide behind his little finger anymore. "I kissed him." He went on before Ethan could interrupt him. "But I still choose to be with you. I'm never going to let anything happen again. Your turn."

"My turn?"

"Yeah, your turn. Tell me who you were with."

"No one!"

"Ethan…" Justin knew he was lying, even though he didn't have a shred of proof. He just felt it in his gut.

He seemed to think it for a second or two. "I was just at Woody's."

"_You?_ At Woody's? You hate that place. You hate bars in general. You hate the music they play, the "uncivilized, barbaric" people that gather there. At least that's what you said last time I suggested we go there."

"Then you're not the only one with surprises up his sleeve."

"I can see that." Justin nodded. The thoughts whirling around in his head finally came to a stop and something in his brain clicked.

"You thought I'd be asleep. You were sneaking back into the apartment at this time because you thought I'd be asleep." Ethan started to protest, but Justin went on. "Is it the first time? Or do you just leave all the time and come back in the morning? Lie down next to me and pretend like you were sleeping all night?"

Ethan didn't respond. Justin didn't need any further explanations.

"Great. Anything else you'd like to share?"

"Justin" Ethan leveled his tone again, sounding compromising. "If you just left Vanguard. We'd have more time for us and I wouldn't have to worry about _him_."

Justin could almost laugh. It's like someone had pushed the replay button, and they were caught up in an eternal repetition. "I am not going to quit Vanguard. I need to work, and there isn't any better job out there."

"Starb…"

"Jesus Christ can you shut the fuck up about fucking Starbucks already! At Vanguard I do something I enjoy, I work as close to my field as is possible right now. Would you give up the violin to make macchiatos?"

"How do you expect me to trust you around him?"

"I just do. I'm not a cat in heat, I can control my actions."

"With him practically throwing himself at you?"

"So what? It wouldn't be the first time. I'm sure Woody's or wherever else you went tonight was filled with men throwing themselves at you. Isn't that why you went? To have sex with someone else?"

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, but Justin kept looking at him suspiciously. The answer was too quick, too dramatic. It sounded like a lie.

"So you were there alone."

"Justin… Do I really have to explain this?"

"Yeah, I think you do."

"Look. You just said you kissed Kinney! So maybe I wanted to flirt a little. That doesn't mean I fucked the guy! For fuck's sake, the diner sees you more than I do! What did you expect?"

"Why is everything that happens automatically my fault?"

"Justin…"

"No, really! All the while you expect me to be the perfect boyfriend, it never crossed your mind that we may both be at fault? Have I ever given you the impression that I care if you flirt or go out alone? You can do it if you want; I'm not your nanny. But if you still feel like you need to do it behind my back, the root of the problem is deeper."

Ethan remained silent. Justin started gathering the things he needed for work in a hurry. He didn't even have enough time to take a shower, if he wanted to make it on time. He wasn't sure he wanted to spend another minute inside the apartment anyway.

"Are you going to Vanguard?"

"Yes. This is _my_ decision Ethan; it has nothing to do with you."

"Are you coming back?"

"No…at least not now. I'll stay at Daph's for a while and… I don't know. I'll get my things in the afternoon."

_Brian's POV_

"Why are all the chiropractors in Oregon?"

Cynthia glanced at Brian, an eyebrow raised questioningly. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing. Stiff back. I fell asleep…on the couch."

"Uh-huh." Cynthia reached over and picked up the requisitions that Brian had just signed. "He went out for lunch and now he's at a meeting."

"What?" Brian had a fairly good idea who Cynthia was talking about, but he'd be damned if he'd admit to anything. His policy was the same as that of the US government. Deny everything.

Cynthia sighed. "Justin Taylor. I know that you had wanted to know when he got into work today, and don't think I missed your surreptitious trips to the Art Department. There's a visualizers meeting in the Production Department today and Steve sent Justin for it."

"Justin's a junior artist, not a fucking visualizer."

"You can tell that to Steve next time you see him. Does he have a sister?"

"Who? Steve? How the fuck should I know?"

"Not Steve, Justin. I was wondering about the girl who came to meet him…but if you don't know…I guess I'll ask Kathy."

Brian hated how Cynthia dangled the bait in front of his face before slowly making her way out of his office. He had seen octogenarians move faster. Oh, fuck it.

"_What _girl?"

Cynthia spun around, beaming. "The one with reddish brown, curly, almost frizzy hair?"

"I don't think Justin _has_ a sister…"

"Well, he came from lunch with this huge rucksack and then she turned up a while later and took it away."

That certainly was a very curious nugget of information, and Brian wondered what it could possibly mean. "Cynthia, I hope someone has already pointed out what a gossip you are."

"Oh pffffffffffffffft. You love it as much as I do. Especially when it's about a certain blonde artist. I'll keep you posted if I find out anything else." She winked as she left his office, this time with the alacrity of a sixteen year old.

For all the theories he came up with, none were able to plausibly explain the girl and the rucksack. But there was no resignation letter on his table and Justin was clearly in the office, though out of sight, so Brian took consolation in the fact that the rat-faced Ian had been unsuccessful in luring Justin away.

Not that he cared personally if Justin had resigned. Not at all. It would have been a shame, simply from a business perspective. Purely a business perspective.

Knowing that Justin would be in the Production Department today, Brian cooked up an urgent list of things for him to do, and sent it down to the Art Department. Which gave him a perfectly legitimate reason to haul Steve into his office and chew him out for sending the wrong fucking person for the wrong fucking meeting. Again, it was purely business. Brian simply did not want his staff wasting time. It was unproductive. That's all.

When Brian walked into his office at about six in the evening, after being bored to tears for almost two hours while Ryder droned on and on about refurbishment ideas and their ensuing cost, he had successfully convinced himself that all his actions from the previous day (and night) were for the benefit of Vanguard.

Then he found a sketch of himself, standing underneath a lamppost, completed and mounted and lying on his table. He couldn't figure out how to convince himself that the smile that found its way onto his face had anything at all to do with business.

_At the diner_

Brian wondered what Justin was thinking. The blonde had given him an almost shy smile while taking their order, but was busy ever since, attending to practically every other table in the diner. In fact, he was so busy that Brian wondered if he was getting paid for every plate that he carried, as opposed to the number of hours he worked.

"Well?"

Brian looked at Emmett's impatient face and realized that he had completely missed the question. For the sake of appearances, he rolled his eyes and plastered a sardonic expression on his face.

"What do you think?" That should hopefully buy him time and trick Emmett into divulging what the original question was.

"How could I _possibly_ imagine what you think, Brian? You want to hit Woody's first?"

Brian smiled to himself. It was a good thing he was this brilliant. "Let's skip Woody's and go straight to Babylon."

Which would, of course, mean that they'd hang around the diner until it was a respectably late enough hour to enter Babylon. And of course, he wasn't really in the mood for Woody's. Of course. Thus the new plan.

"Great! I'll ask Ben to meet us there then. He's been marking papers all week; I think he'd enjoy the break."

Brian smiled indulgently at Michael, took his drink and drained it.

"Hey! I had barely touched that! Asshole." Michael threw a balled napkin at him, and successfully caught Justin's eye in a second. "Justin, can I have another Coke?"

_Perfect._

He was thirsty.

_Justin's POV_

He slipped quietly past the kitchen into the washroom and splashed cold water on his face. Justin was quite relieved that, for once, Steve had managed to fuck up at work. After all the drama of the last 48 hours, give or take a few hours, Justin had wanted to do nothing more than take a timeout. A Production Department meeting for visualizers had been perfect. He didn't really have to pay attention, it wasn't really his job, and nobody had expected him to make any contributions whatsoever.

Ethan had lied to him. In all likelihood, Ethan had probably slept with _some_one, unbeknown to him as well. Justin tried his best to be rational about it. Ethan had almost has much as admitted that it wasn't the first time that he had snuck out; that was as plain as day. They weren't in high school; nobody _just_ flirted. Where to take that relationship from here? Justin refused to think about it for the moment.

And he, fool that he was, had passed up the opportunity with Brian, due to some misplaced sense of honour and loyalty. He had certainly _wanted _to sleep with Brian. Truth be told, he _still _wanted to sleep with Brian. And yet…if it was wrong then, it was wrong now. Just because Ethan might have cheated on him, Justin had no right to stoop to that level. They were on a break, not at a break-up. This was _not_ going to turn into a reenactment of _Friends. _

Justin shook his head. If he was being honest, Ethan and doing the 'right' thing weren't the only problems. He knew that he could never be satisfied by becoming just another notch on Brian Kinney's belt. It didn't matter that Brian had turned more and more human, and more and more likable in the last few days. He was a predator by nature, and any friendship he had with Justin notwithstanding; any sexual encounter between the two would be nothing more than a one-night stand.

And that would be an absolutely lousy road to take.

It was perhaps because these thoughts, and their first, second and third cousins had taken up residence in Justin's head the entire day that Brian Kinney decided to turn up at the diner and not leave.

Justin had felt like a schoolboy; tongue-tied and addle-brained. He had taken their order, tried his best to smile at Brian and _not _blush, and made it back to kitchen in record time. He had hoped that the men would leave, but none of them showed the slightest inclination of indulging him.

So Justin decided the best course of action was to just act as if everything was normal and stay the hell away from Brian without seeming to avoid him. Which meant keeping himself busy busy busy. The diner had probably never been this efficient since…well, since forever. He took everyone's order, cleaned all the tables, mopped the floor if someone so much as dropped a breadcrumb on the floor, and it fresh coffee for everyone.

Look dead straight, smile, appear nonchalant, be busy. Repeat from the beginning. On loop.

The looking dead straight proved to be a problem. He found himself glancing at Brian's table often, when he was certain that no one would notice him. Or looking at the reflection of their table in the glass.

_Pathetic. Taylor, you are so lame that it isn't even funny. _

And on that note, his eyes, with a will entirely their own, glanced at the table again.

"Justin, can I have another Coke?"

_Shit._ Had Michael noticed him being a complete douche?

Smile plastered on his face, Justin nodded and went to get Michael his Coke, and picked up a plate of fries for another table. If he timed it just right, he should be at Brian's table for a maximum of seven to ten seconds.

Of course, Justin never factored in unforeseen circumstances, such as Debbie.

As soon as he had placed the Coke in front of Michael, Debbie swooped in, whisking the plate of fries away from him.

"Sunshine, you sit down right here, right now."

"But Debbie –"

"Don't you argue with me. You've been working like a dog all evening, doing three people's work. You're done for today sweetie. Take off that apron, and go have some fun." Loudly kissing him on the cheek, and then leaning over to subject Michael to the same thing, she went to deliver the plate of fries.

Before Justin said anything, Emmett clapped his hands in glee.

"You got an early evening! We were going to head to Babylon soon, do you want to join us? It'll be funnnnn!"

Justin smiled at Emmett, wondering how he should reply. It probably _would_ be fun, but…he glanced at Brian, wondering what his reaction was, and was embarrassed when the brunette caught his eye and smiled.

"Indeed, Sunshine, why don't you join us?" He drawled. "I heard you were bored to tears at work today…I assure you, this would be a wholly different experience…unless of course, your _boyfriend _doesn't like you having fun?"

Justin rolled his eyes and struggled not to smile. _If only he knew. _"I'd love to join you Em, but I really don't think I'm dressed for Babylon."

"Well, of _course _you're not. Which is why between us, we – uh, _they_ –" he indicated to Ted and Brian, "have two vehicles. Plus, we still have time for Babylon. Come on Teddy, let's take Justin to his place so he can wear something fabulous!" Emmett had already squeezed out of the booth and was tugging Ted's hand. "We'll meet you guys at Babylon then; you two can go pick up Ben since there's time. Now, Justin, I'm thinking that you should do electric blue or a real nice red tonight. What colours do you have?"

Justin let himself be guided by Emmett, but the image that was stuck in his head was that of a smiling Brian.


End file.
